There’s no such thing as a short country walk.
It requires your patience,
Your understanding that you may be out ‘til dark.
You wander the roads whether man-made or animal,
Following the pull in your heart to the next tree,
The next signpost or pile of droppings.
You’ll talk to the neighbor you haven’t seen in a week,
Check that his parents are still doing alright,
You’ll wave at his cows and, if you’re lucky,
They’ll follow you from across the fence for a while.
You’ll hear the calls of life around you
And smell tomorrow’s weather.
And only when too many rocks creep into your boots,
Will you know it’s time to go home.