Time & Change

The stereotype of city vs. country is that city folks are always in a terrible rush, while country people take things so slow they're almost torpid.

Sometimes, sterotypes are right.

The pace out here is definitely different than when I lived in a more urban area. In a city, you're surrounded only by man-made things -- buildings, cars, pavement, artificial plants and lighting, the sky covered by roofs, the grass covered in cement. Without an external frame of reference you come to rely on clocks and watches, parsing your day into exquisitely precise and short units. The alarm clock sounds to wake you, get in the car early to beat the other commuters, punch in with your time card, take no more than one hour for your lunch, the whistle blows to end your day, gotta get home in time to catch that favorite show.

Out here at the ranch, though, the drummer we march to in natural, not man-made. We get up when the sun rises and shines through the windows, unblocked by other buildings. Because the time the sun rises changes slowly throughout the year, our wake-up call is a bit different every day. Grass is starting to grow in the pastures. Wild plum and cherry trees are sending out brilliant white flowers. Oaks are starting a heavy leaf drop. Winter coats on the horses are shedding.

Every day things change here, but in their own time and at their own pace. It's constant change at a slower rhythm.

So yes, things move slower out here in the country. I'm starting to worry that maybe I am tainting that with all of my man-made devices, my TIVOs and satellite radios, my internet towers and Bobcats. These are man-made things, working to man-made rhythms, and I desperately hope that I don't ruin the beat.