Love letter to the countryside

The slow life or the fast life? The pace of change.

The older I get, the more change seems to come. Granted, that may be an obvious consideration, but it never ceases to creep up on me. When we left school, it was a common reminder that university would fly by quicker than we noticed, but that still didn’t mean I was ready for how quickly it did pass; now my cohort is truly entering the adult world, buying houses and decided career paths, dreaming of big business plans and trying to earn money, while I can’t help but feel that the last time I checked I was 15. As much as I welcome change, there is always a slight sadness that comes with it; reflecting on the past and the good times, while hoping blindly for more. 

So far in my twenties, I have come to the conclusion that they are transitional. Having had a strict plan laid out for us from age 4 to 18 in the form of full-time education, our early twenties hold more value as signifying a transition into adulthood than our 18th birthdays did. Now, I find myself thinking about my future in a more serious fashion than I have previously. Do I want to live the city life or the country life? Fast life or slow life? Which parts of my life are the priority? Travel, owning property, having children, and at what age? These may seem like big things for a 21 year old to be deliberating, but some consideration on these points seems important now; after all, our grandmas were getting married at this age. 

Some solace to these endless questions is that I have decided that my twenties are for myself. We should be spending time with friends, falling in and out of love, spending all our money on a couple memories, and making silly decisions that will make a great story. Right now, my foreseeable dreams are to travel and have fun, experience new things and set up enough memories to be the interesting Auntie. Once this little part of my life begins to change again, it will probably be time to decide on how fast I would like my life to move going forward.

In terms of the city vs countryside debate, personally I would like to experience both. I have grown up in the country, and lived in a small city for university, although living in London for a year or so has always called out to my creativity. The pace of London can sometimes be overwhelming, but the inspiration and opportunity are next to none. Perhaps I will live there for a year or so. In the countryside, things move somewhat slower; you are almost forced to stop and smell the roses (literally), inspiration can be drawn from the surrounding landscape and life as opposed to the people (of which there are significantly fewer). 

The countryside can act as a catalyst for self-awareness if you notice it properly. It gives you the time and space to think, reflect and relax, all the while teaching you an appreciation of other living things around you. Of course, not everyone views the English countryside as I do, but I argue that they just haven’t opened their eyes. There’s a lot to recommend for sitting in your garden and silently watching. However still the scene may seem, after a little while you will notice all manner of living things. I have been trying to enjoy a coffee outside in the morning, and in the fir hedge at the end of the garden, I watch hedge sparrows, jenny wrens (one of my particular favourites), blue tits, wagtails, thrushes, and of course pigeons and blackbirds. When faced with the intricate lives and relationships of the animals that we coexist with, I think it teaches us of our own insignificance and impact, unveiling a level of self-reflection that nothing else in our manufactured world can. 

When I reflect on the winters of my childhood, I think of the beauty. I was fortunate enough to be brought up in an Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty in England, and that beauty didn’t fade in winter. Living in a village on a hill meant that in the colder months, the temperature could drop sometimes 4°C further than the towns in our area, and our village being somewhat off the beaten track meant that gritter lorries were not always guaranteed to make an appearance. The combination of these factors inevitably resulted in us being snowed in. I remember the excitement of seeing a foot of snow on the garden table, and half a metre long icicles hanging from the soffits. As there would be no route in or out of the village until the snow melted, we would go sledging with almost all of our primary school (there were 140 of us total) down one of the fields, and make snowmen and igloos in ours and our friends gardens. In hindsight, this must have been a nightmare for the adults who couldn’t get into their offices, after all in the early 2000s working from home was not as normalised as it is post-covid. I look back on those winters with nostalgia and love. The isolation we experienced does not happen to the same extent in towns and cities, and the community that I grew up in was ever so tight knit because of it.

A slow life does not necessarily mean a boring one; the merits of a slow life can assist motivation and success, without the situational stress of bustling surroundings. 

Personally, I believe that peace can only be achieved through acceptance and positivity. While the countryside can teach that, your mindset is what makes the most difference. It is currently mid august, and in the land surrounding where I live, the farmers have been hastily harvesting the fields for the past two weeks. This means that on a half hour drive, you are almost guaranteed to see two tractors or even a combine harvester if you are lucky! As much as tractors and farm equipment are always a slight novelty to see on the roads, that novelty can wear off quickly when you have somewhere to be.

Our roads are already lacking markings and curbs for the most part, so the addition of a 3 metre wide vehicle can prove challenging. This coupled with the usual 25 miles per hour speed and a bad mindset, can cause quite the opposite of peace and positivity. Although some may see becoming stuck behind a tractor in this situation as extremely aggravating, I try to act with a more ‘let it be’ approach; will being five minutes later than I intended ruin my day? I think shifting your mindset towards the old rose tinted glasses approach can really amend your outlook on life.

Practising gratitude is one of the ‘it’ things of the moment, but unlike some of the other trends circling, I find this one to be of positive impact. Bringing attention to the things that you are thankful for opens up a whole new level of appreciation for your surroundings, and once you begin to appreciate what is around you, there is less anger and negativity to be had. After all, the flowers are a reminder of why we needed the rain. There is a bigger picture to life, and encouraging grief over the little things causes you to lose track of the world that exists around you. I am probably more destined for a slow life with this kind of thinking! I find more value in experience and knowledge than belongings, and seeing and understanding as much as I can is my greatest aim. 

Maybe getting to the age where you begin to reflect on the bigger things serves as a reminder to live a slower life. To not get swept up in wishing time away, but be present and appreciative. I still have a few crazy years in me before I succumb to the pull of living a slow-paced life (I think). For now, I am happy to live at a million miles per hour and see as much as I can, but I know deep down that I will always be drawn back to the simplicity of the open fields, animals and trees, where the weather is always a tad more extreme, and the pace is a tad more sedate.