There’s always something to howl about.

Unchained Melody: Fields of Gold

Saturday I took a mini vacation and visited my daughter Rian, who was taking a longer vacation in the Hocking Hills. If you are from the Mid-West, you may know about the Hocking Hills. It’s beautiful land- old forests, rolling hills. It was a treat to take a day away from normal life and I love driving through Ohio with its farmland and small towns. I’m a Realtor. Under all is the land.

Ohio is still, and always has been, an agricultural state. Our biggest business is agriculture- that’s large expanses of productive real estate- income producing dirt. I am, even in my inner ring suburb, surrounded by cornfields and soybean fields and small roadside farm stands and pick-your-own strawberries. And when I was a kid I hated it! Hated it. I was once much more cosmopolitan than the hayseed you see before you. I was once a citified mohawk wearing rabble-rouser. I was once on the fast track out of the Mid-West and onto somethinganything more exciting. And then I grew up.

I spent time with people who came from the same gene pool. I was accepted by the most gentle and loving people I’d ever met. Their quiet wit, their infinite love, their simple lives woke me up and let me understand that I could take the girl out of the country, but I never really wanted to take the country out of the girl. My mohawk grew out, my attitude softened- just a bit- and I learned to love the sight of a pristine barn rising out of tidy rows of cornfields. I know with the tiniest whiff on the breeze, whether I’m smelling cow, pig, or horse shit, and my husband Jamie, who has farming in his blood and spent his youth as an assistant to a large animal veterinarian, says that the dumber the animal, the better the smell. Hint: Pigs stink almost as much as humans.

We have beautiful land in Ohio, and no time is it more beautiful than now, in the fall, when the trees become a spectacular raging colorfest, and the farm fields are golden, and the skies are the bluest they will be all year. It’s glorious in Ohio in late September and October, and I, for one, don’t mind the impending winter. I love Winter. The quiet, the calm, the anticipation of Spring. We are not only in touch with our weather here, of which we have quite a bit, we are also in touch with the land here. Even in the city or the suburbs, we watch the local farmers. Watch them as they harvest, as they prep their land for winter, as they turn the earth and plant in the spring. Every season brings a change in the landscape, and I’m quite unapologetic about this, but it’s breathtakingly lovely to watch.

An unchained life in the country: A photo of the Hocking Hills on Saturday, and Eva Cassidy singing “Fields of Gold”.

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