BUCKING THE SYSTEM: COUNTRY LIVING, WHITE STARS AND RAINSTORMS MOVING IN

My friend Daniella asked me recently if I would buy a house in the country if the opportunity arose. I didn't hesitate before telling her that I would love to return to the country.

Daniella felt the same way. She had grown up in a one-horse town on the Illinois side of the river, and we both agreed that country living was best.

You see, we both understand the value of an inky black sky fat with brilliant white stars and the wondrous view of a rainstorm moving majestically across a wide field.

We agreed it was important to be able to hear the early evening songs of crickets and frogs and to inhale the perfect smell of freshly tilled soil or sweet corn ready for picking.

We recalled the tall, grand homes as children we had said would one day be ours, and we remembered the good times we had in towns where everybody knew our names.

It may sound romantic, maybe even addle-brained, but this is the country life we choose to remember. Forget the inexhaustible, ever-present supply of mosquitoes that thrive in rural settings, the field mice that always find their way into even the nicest of country homes, and the wariness that must accompany any unidentified bump in the night.

Forget the fact that with name and physical recognition comes a decrease in privacy that can be plumb annoying at times. Those were just mild irritations to be amplified by the occasional city dwellers who pass through our communities.

Hometowners who have "been gone" like Daniella and I focus more on the big picture, that picture that only comes after you've lived, left and returned home again.

I can't believe I'm writing this flawless depiction of country life, especially considering how much I hated it as a child. Who would want to live where cable and pizza delivery are nonexistent, and the area's only two television stations (ABC is only available in Southeast Missouri when the wind is blowing just right) disappear on partly cloudy days?

Well actually, Daniella and I would. Because, you see, we did what we set out to do as young adults: We left our small, homey communities and headed for the big cities. There we worked and partied hearty, and we lived life to the fullest.

Then, we returned home, glad for the opportunity to sit on porches on a balmy night and sip sweet tea, eat real ice cream and enjoy casual conversation about nothing much at all.

Now we are mothers, and we recognize the simple pleasures of accompanying a child as he rides a tricycle down a country lane, or as he trips and falls trying to chase butterflies through a field full of dirt clods.

It's good to have rural communities to go home to. Despite my enjoyment of life in Cape, everything comes to a wonderful, screeching halt as soon as I enter the Mississippi County line, and I am reminded of the simple wonders of nature and the comforts of home. Daniella said she has the same experience when she turns off the Grapevine Trail and sees "her" house recessed in its little nook near the last curve before home.

Sometimes, even if it's only for a weekend, the country is the best place to be.

~Tamara Zellars Buck is a staff writer for the Southeast Missourian.