For someone raised differently than me, their idea of a wonderful way to live will likely be different also. Some people have a childhood such that they can hardly wait to escape it, but I consider mine a rare gift of experiences and nurturing by the land that has colored my entire life. Are there more perfect ways to grow up, possibly, but not for me.
I grew up on the edge of wilderness, in a home at the end of a dead-end road. Beyond us was nothing much for many many miles unless Bigfoot really lived there.
When I had to leave there, I was not a happy young woman, but the land belonged to my parents. They needed to move and so goes life. When I got to a point of establishing my own home, my goal was to find that place again. Of course, you never really can; but I do live in the hills, where there aren't many people until you get to the ocean. I live daily all the pluses and minuses that are part of such a life.
One of the pluses are the wildflowers in the spring. Now a lot of the ones in these photos should have come earlier but this year, they are blooming their heart out on the edge of summer. They yield a beauty really beyond measure and it's hard not to be caught by them with any trip to town.
These photos from June 26th are from our own gravel road, the edge of our farm, wild roses, foxglove, columbine, daisies, and one I don't know. Why they need a name I am not sure as it's their beauty that is part of what makes me glad I live in the country. Oh I could come out here on a drive and see them, but these are mine in a way that I'd never know if I did that.