Simplicity and Quiet

I've been thinking again about this new life I have since moving to Iowa and the peace I've finally found. 

I still find myself surprised by how quiet in can be in places that were never quiet in my old home.  On warm summer afternoons, its become my routine to grab a few magazines or a book and sit in my Adirondack chair in the front yard, waiting for Mark to come home from work.  The only sounds I hear are birds or the rumble of an approaching train.  I can lean my head against the back of the chair, close my eyes and enjoy the warmth of the sun in blissful silence. 

There are other things that are different - grocery store butchers who know my name, writing checks and not having to show identification, never feeling like I have to lock my front door.  Once the novelty of living in the rural Midwest wears off maybe these things won't seem so unusual, but I hope that doesn't happen.  I want to remember 10 mile backups on the highways during rush hour and the resulting road rage incidents; I want to remember surly store clerks who give you bad service and don't care; I want to remember the pressures of living in a place where what you drive and where you live is how you're judged.  High prices, endless traffic, noise, crime, stress.  I want to remember these things as a reminder of what I left behind and how really good life can be.

I watched a movie yesterday, "Grand Canyon", that made me start thinking what I left behind.  Briefly, the movie is set in LA and follows six residents from different backgrounds whose lives intertwine.  The central story is the relationship between a lawyer and the tow truck driver who saves him from a near-death confrontation with gang members.  Just watching what these people endured on a daily basis, the normal life of city dwellers, was disturbing. 

I don't worry about those things any more.