I am continually discovering the difference between the city and the country.

The first real distinction was an abrupt reversal in my feelings of romance and stimulation at the grit, odour, proximity, and noise of the city. All at once, I cut short a shopping trip to the nearest one, preferring to be here.

Attending a techno dance party in a barn, I noted that not only was parking easy and free, but there was no line at the bar and no crush at the front of the stage. The city seemed to offer lower quality experiences at a premium.

It’s taken years to shake the consumerist attitude which expects my money to promptly produce the goods and services I want. Here, entrepreneurship is community service. When someone offers their labor, expertise, or talent for hire, the proper response is gratitude.

Everyone who lives and works here does so by choice: to search and find home, or not to leave. We here have all chosen countryside for its qualities, which now we can preserve together, along with a quality of life which is seasonal, properly disrupted by rain and heat and lunch. Patience in commercial transactions is a manifestation of a collective commitment to quality of life.

In the countryside we have more tranquility, if not less work. More vibrant nature, as well as more proximity to its deaths. More opportunity, if fewer offers.

And more to discover. Largely without advertisement, people are busily building all kinds of projects on their domains. As I take another unknown road home from a familiar destination, I realize the depth of activity. In Berlin, as an assiduous explorer, I quickly found all the cheese and pastries. Surely there were things I didn’t look for as well. But although the city offers an overwhelming density of human beings, its offers are also knowable.

Here I realize are a lot of things quietly going on.