Pat on why the real country can be a shock

When we moved to the three plus acres we live on now, my views of the country were wildly romantic. These same views are now seasoned with a healthy dose of reality. Not a bad outcome, but one that reminds me frequently of how naive I was. This weekend provided another opportunity for that valuable learning.

Michelle stopped by so that we could walk the trails that crisscross the 10 acres of heavily forested land my next door neighbor Norma owns. It's a beautiful walk with 100-year-old firs, ferns, mushrooms, and, in the spring and summer, wildflowers. My fantasy, of course, was that everything would be as perfect as our walks have been in the past.

Instead, this weekend we started down the trail listening to the sounds of a semiautomatic rifle. I know - because I've asked - that another close neighbor sometimes takes advantage of his free time on the weekend to kill the gophers that overpopulate his orchard. And, that he aims for the floor of the orchard and not my neighbor's or my land.

This reassurance didn't help much though as we winced our way down the trail. And, yes, I wish we had taken umbrellas.