OPINION

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By Pender Bauhan

Twenty-six minutes. It doesn’t sound like a long ride, but the space between minute one and minute twenty-six is what separates me from the masses. 

I put on my playlist, kick back, and drive out to Goochland, Virginia. The houses grow further apart, and the roads morph into curves. 

For me, this drive, long to some, is just one reason why country living is so exceptional. I am able to take this time to tune into myself. Not only am I able to use this time to meditate, but I also enjoy and take in the scenery around me.

Dover Road, Goochland County.

I drive down a dirt road hidden by trees that cuts through a forest. After a mile of potholes and fallen sticks, the woods open up to a green, wide field and a white house. There are chickens roaming in the yard and a Labrador running around. I hop out of the car to my dad calling my name to help him gather the chickens and herd them back into their cage for the night. 

I breathe. Not a house in sight. No neighbors. No traffic. No one is looking in on me, watching my every step. There is a sense of security in the air. I am safe. I am able to let my guard down and be whatever I want to be. 

Just a mile further down the dirt road lives my grandmother, Polly Bauhan. In an interview, she explains how “except for two years, I have spent my entire life living in the country, seventy-nine wonderful years.” She and her two horses, two cats, and dog, run the land, day in and day out. She wakes in the morning to feed her animals, taking her time to reflect on what her day may look like. In the evening, she returns and uses this time to put to rest her days thoughts and challenges.

Cows grazing in open field at dusk.

When asked what she loves most about the country lifestyle, she says, “I love the country because it is peaceful, very beautiful and unspoiled by development. My farm is a tapestry of color, forever changing with the seasons, green pastures with horses (and, once upon a time, sheep) surrounded by lovely old trees and colorful gardens of flowers and vegetables.” She would not be able to find happiness anywhere else but the country. 

The abundance of trees and nature make it easy to go outside, take a deep breath, and release the tension. During the day, my grandmother takes advantage of the freedom of the country. She takes long walks through the woods with her pup. I sometimes pass her on the driveway as I’m coming home. We stop and say our hellos and catch up on life. 

The country brings a sense of familiarity. I know everyone who lives around me. Small talk and catching up with neighbors is very common. I slow my tires and roll my window down, eager to listen and share. In the city, I’m on the go; no time to stop and say hello. 

Goochland sunset above an open, green field.

In the evenings, the country offers one thing I have yet to find in the city. An open, quiet sunset viewing spot, absent of people and cars. On my free nights, my sister and I, sometimes with friends, eagerly park our cars in the side ditch of the unmarked road to watch what the sky decides to paint that night. The rolling fields and distant tree line accent the clouds and low-lying sun in the sky. The colors are bright and vibrant blues, pinks, oranges, and yellows. The beauty and untouched serenity of my surrounding keeps me sane. 

Although the country sounds like pure bliss, my sister, Abby Bauhan (‘23) dislikes living in Goochland. She explained to me how “inconvenient it is to live in Goochland and twenty-five plus minutes away from everything.” She “never has rides, and coordinating plans is too difficult.” She complains how no friends want to come out to her house to hang out, pick her up, or drop her off. She makes a good point. It is a haul, but I feel that it is every bit worth it to be able to be in the quiet and untouched, open land of Goochland county.

All photos by Pender Bauhan.

ALTERNATE PERSPECTIVE: Read Pearse Reindeau’s opinion piece on living in the city.