Take Me Back To The Country

Over the years, there have been many songs and poems written about people’s desire to get away from big city life and go back to the simple times remembered of days in the country. There are songs of country roads and others lamenting of how hard it can be to get back what seems to be only in the rear-view mirror of life. Inside I think many of us long, for that life that only exists away from the city lights.

Like most, I too enjoy a trip to the country just as much as anyone does, maybe even more than most. We are also fortunate to live in a town where the country is only a short drive in any direction. However, when my mind drifts back to the country, it is not just about where the blacktop ends or where barbwire fences line every road. I am longing for country life like what existed when I was a child, where country was not just about whether you lived on a rural route, but a place where work was hard and days were long. Where families really loved each other and cared for their neighbors especially when one was in need, but showed the same concern and care even when things were good.

Missing in most of our lives today, is that freedom that exists from running as hard as you can through a cornfield barefoot, or jumping cannonball style into the creek, even if it was cold. Do you remember hiding in the woods at night playing hide and seek with no fear that it might be dangerous? Our parents never had the worries and fears that parents and grandparents have for children’s safety from predators. Even taking a friend snipe hunting today and leaving him or her in the woods would be unheard of, or might even be criminal in some areas.

If only I could walk back through the door, of either of my grandparents’ house right now and see them sitting there, time could just stand still. Because there were always two things certain at those houses, you would get a hot country-fried meal, and they would sit there and talk to you for hours about whatever was happening in your life. Even in my own home growing up, we were made to sit at the table with no television interference to distract from family conversation, and yes, families really did pray together at the table.

If I could turn back the hands of time, I would like once again to walk down a little rutted out road, through the woods and hear the crickets singing, or the movement of a squirrel leaping from tree to tree. Perhaps even hear the haunting howl of a coyote in the distance or the frightening scream of a bobcat. Once again I would love to see a Sunday morning where the entire community went to services at the little community churches, and afterwards we all would go home where our moms or grandmothers had fried chicken or a baked a roast so it was ready shortly after getting home.

In my life I have had many opportunities and been blessed more than I deserve. Nevertheless, the greatest blessings are not things, its families and memories shared. Some of those best memories come from another place and time where life was simpler and country was in our hearts. So for me, let’s slow things down and take a little trip back to the country, pull up a blade of grass and chew on it, and maybe if the wind is right you might still smell the chicken frying, or how about once again jumping in the creek with all you have got. Yes, you can take me back to the country, anytime you want.