“Thank God I’m a Country Boy.”

Thank God I’m a Country Boy

 

Early in 2011, we moved my Father-in-Law up to live with us in southern Oregon.  I remember one of the first things he said after getting to see the sky.

 

“The sky is so blue,” he said.  evidently they don’t have many blue sky days in the Bay Area.  What you can see of the sky there isn’t blue, I’m not sure what color  it is, because the buildings always seem to be in the way of a clear view.
About a week ago I drove a few miles to town and looked out the car window.  Yep, the sky was blue.  Not just blue like the Bay area, but big, clean, crisp clear sky blue.  That deep blue you see on clear days during cold winter months.  I thought back to my father-in-law’s observation.  The sky was indeed blue, the kind of blue that makes you want to stand outside and let it slam you right in the face.  It was a gorgeous, deep blue.  What they call a “chamber of commerce day.”

 

As I drove, I couldn’t help looking around the area.  One gentleman was petting a horse through a fence, dogs were running and playing, sheep were grazing.  I passed by the ranch where one of the Kentucky Derby horses of just a few years ago was foaled and thought I spotted the mare that bore him.

 

The more i drove, the better I felt.  Good that there is still agriculture in Oregon, good that a person could take the time to pet a horse and that there were horses to pet.  Good that I passed several apple trees and the apples were beginning to ripen.  grapes were turning color and would soon be homemade jelly or wine or be in some youngster’s lunch as part of a peanut butter sandwich.

As usually happens, when you begin to think of such things, it makes you think back to an old John Denver song.  Denver sang about some real down-home things and this is one that sticks in my head. It made me want to roll down the window and shout.

 

A short time later my wife took me on a trip for my birthday.  we traveled north through the Willamette Valley, through Portland, Seattle, Tacoma and Olympia.  What a change.  Each time we came to a city the landscape changed from the familiar green to dull grey as we entered each of those towns.  Changed from the green of agriculture to the grey of concrete.  Makes you want to loose your lunch.

You can’t help thinking of those folks trapped in their concrete jungle and feeling sorry for them.

I’ve lived in cities.  Matter of fact I was born in the city.  My great Grandfather was a farmer, and he left the farm to my grandfather.  But an untimely death when my father was young, meant selling the farm and living in town.  My father spent the rest of his life trying to get back to the farm–unsuccessfully, I might ad.  I live in the country by choice.  Any other choice scares the beegeebees out of me.

 

As I drove on, it was really hitting home now.  I thought again of that John Denver song. and couldn’t help thinking and silently saying to myself :

 

“Thank God I’m a Country Boy.”

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