Bragging Rights
Everyone living in the country is quick to point out the ultimate advantages of living away from the concrete and fumes of urban life. They can expound on the thrill of being close to nature, the healthy advantages of breathing quality air and how sweet well water has not been stripped of its natural minerals. I know because I preach about everything mentioned here. I am a zealot praising to the heavens all the wonderful attributes of the glories of rural lifestyle—I use every method available to get my message across.
My camera, always at the ready, captures the beauty of wild flowers that grow along our road and in our fields. I record textures of bark and rock along with winged, furry and slimy creatures that share my environment. I brag about every aspect of rural life and proudly post confirming photos on my blog. Even on the hottest dog days of summer I spurn air conditioning as one can always find a cool shady spot beneath a glorious maple tree and inhale deep unpolluted breaths. At day’s end, I drift off to sleep filling my lungs with sweet night air wafting through my open windows. I don’t buy bottled water but always carry thirst-quenching water from home. To me, it’s fair game to lord the advantages of living rural over every sad sack who doesn’t have this privilege. I love to exercise my bragging rights.
I confess, however, that sometimes there are adverse things we fail to mention.
A few nights ago, I was choked awake at 2 a.m. from a deep sleep. I threw off my sheet and hit the floor in record time. I rushed to the open windows, slammed them shut and powered up the fan. The nauseating, throat burning odour sprayed by some dastardly skunk offended my entire olfactory system and threatened to turn my stomach. Closing the windows didn’t help. The smell lingered—gagging me. Realizing that my garden room patio doors were wide open to the interior, I tore downstairs to close them. Breathing shallow and swallowing to keep my food down, I hurried through the den toward the back of the house. There I noticed the air quality was not as pungent as at the front. I dared to take a deep breath to fill my lungs and expel the foul contents in them. That nasty polecat had sprayed in the front yard. I slammed the door to the garden room shut anyway.
Returning to my bedroom, I took the precaution of applying hand lotion so I could tuck my palms under my nose to mask the putrid smell. It was not entirely successful, but somewhat improved. Eventually, I dozed off to waken to slightly better air quality but the wrath of that small black creature with the white stripe still lingered. I had to get on with my day.
Happy to escape to the less offensive fumes of the city, I set out to do some weekly shopping. A mile down the road sweet morning air rushed through the windows of my car. I breathed deep and relaxed. There truly is nothing like fresh morning air in the country.
Minutes later I held my breath and punched the power button to close the windows. A local farmer was emptying the contents from his honey wagon over freshly harvested fields. Calling it a honey wagon probably dates me as now-a-days farming has become a sophisticated industry using modern methods and equipment. This dairy farm has the latest technologies one of which is a huge manure pit. There the cow’s contribution is liquefied to be sprayed over the fields from a top-of-the-line truck that can deliver the liquid fertilizer to acres and acres in a few short hours. What hasn’t changed is the smell. Holding my breath, I greatly exceeded the speed limit to get beyond the offensive odour. This was certainly not a day to brag about living in the country.
List in hand I headed for the automatic doors of my favourite grocery store. Walking through the produce department I noticed perfectly formed cucumbers and tomatoes coated on wax and pesticides demanding outrageous prices. I knew their flavours were similar to sawdust. My day had not started out with the most favourable country experiences but smiling to myself, I knew that when I returned, I’d go out to my garden, pick leafy lettuce, a cucumber, some aromatic herbs and two tomatoes. And you know what city folks – my salad will have unbeatable flavour—flavour you can’t buy in a store. Oh, yes, living in the country beats city living by far.
