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It’s the smell of roses blooming on a bright sunny day.
It’s the taste of freshly squeezed lemonade.
It’s the gentle touch of the midday breeze blowing across my face.
It’s the warmth of the sunshine glowing down upon me.
It’s the soft pitter-patter of the raindrops sounding on the roof above me.
It’s the dulled creek of the rusted old teeter totter.
It’s the quickly spreading stain on the porch, from the fast melting Popsicle I’m holding.
It’s the harmonious chirp of a thousand crickets, resonating from the woods behind me.
It’s the rhythmic sway of the hammock I’m lying in.
It’s the faint swish from the basketball entering the net.
It’s the mild pant of the dog, as he’s running through the wind.
It’s the tenderness of the kitten’s fur, rubbing up against my leg.
It’s the pendulum motion of the tire swing swaying back and forth under the oak tree.
It’s the gentle moo of the neighbors cows.
It’s the delicate rustle of a hundred butterflies breaking out of their cocoons.
It’s the motion of the ripples, as the pebble hits the murky pond water.
It’s the way the wind flows through my hair as I take off on the four-wheeler.
It’s the majestic way the sky is painted, as the sun sets behind the horizon.
It’s the mellow put-put of my grandpa’s international harvester.
It’s the way the grass glistens, heavy with dew in the early morning hours.
This my friends…is country life.