Six inches of snow coat the dock just beyond my back door and at least twelve inches of snow blanket the 11-acre pond, where we’ve spent many mornings cross country skiing or ice skating this winter. Our canoe, nicknamed Tippy Canoe after several wet mishaps last fall, is almost forgotten: a frosty hill in shades of white, gray, and ivory. I’m eager for spring. While the sound of the plow sweeping past our new house is helpful (and a sign that though I’m living in the country and over a mile from my closest neighbor, I’m not forgotten), I miss the soundtrack of the spring: the rat-a-tat of the woodpecker and buzz of the hummingbirds; the splash of the mergansers, canvasbacks and wood ducks. I’m anticipating chicks for our chicken coop, a Chesapeake Bay retriever puppy, and establishing a garden in untouched soil. But I didn’t always live here. In fact, if you’d asked me five years ago if I ever thought I’d leave the city life behind in favor of rural country roads, I would have laughed. Nope, not me. Not suburban urban Kristen. Isn’t it funny how things work out?
Six inches of snow coat the dock just beyond my back door and at least twelve inches of snow blanket the 11-acre pond, where we’ve spent many mornings cross country skiing or ice skating this winter. Our canoe, nicknamed Tippy Canoe after several wet mishaps last fall, is almost forgotten: a frosty hill in shades of white, gray, and ivory. I’m eager for spring. While the sound of the plow sweeping past our new house is helpful (and a sign that though I’m living in the country and over a mile from my closest neighbor, I’m not forgotten), I miss the soundtrack of the spring: the rat-a-tat of the woodpecker and buzz of the hummingbirds; the splash of the mergansers, canvasbacks and wood ducks. I’m anticipating chicks for our chicken coop, a Chesapeake Bay retriever puppy, and establishing a garden in untouched soil. But I didn’t always live here. In fact, if you’d asked me five years ago if I ever thought I’d leave the city life behind in favor of rural country roads, I would have laughed. Nope, not me. Not suburban urban Kristen. Isn’t it funny how things work out?