A bit of quiet

I took another drive into the hill country. I’m still not sure about the wine they make out there, but they certainly have empty roads.

I have lived in a city all my life. I believe most people do, really, I think the urban folks outnumber rural these days. I’m not sure if I’d like the quiet all of the time, but there are days, certainly, when I appreciate peace. Last Saturday I ventured out into the hill country in search of peaches to can – for they are currently in season – and found a lot of quiet.

The peaches were everything I’d hoped for, and more. Small, juicy, lovely peaches. The country store we were in smelled like nothing but peaches. It was sweet and delicate and overpowering all at once, with that sort of smell of the outdoors and growing things. I got a box and some tomatoes too.

I love going to fruit farms. I’m almost as much of a fan of fruit as I am of flowers, and it probably isn’t a coincidence that they are related. The smell of sweetness and sugar from fruit and flowers is incredible. You can imagine what a delight it was to sit in this fruit stand/store, smelling these peaches, eating homemade peach ice cream. Maybe it’s the experience I’m going for, that sort of sensory overload.

I headed into a town nearby afterward but … it was too crowded and I left. I was off to find quieter roads. Down a side road. Past a beer joint. Into rolling hills parched by drought and heat. But this is an area that can survive without water … the live oaks keep their green and the grasses become every lovely shade of gold.

But as it turned out, there was indeed water along my path.  It was a little river, with a dam small enough to walk over in a minute. It’s the only, er, well really the only WET river I’ve seen around here in a while. Most of the rivers are mere shadows of themselves, and the creeks have dried up to nothing but their rocky beds with a few enterprising plants growing amidst the rubble.

Down the road a bit more I came to a sleepy town, where I found antiques and barbeque. I was quite fond of the barbecue. It was all made properly. “This place is clearly what the barbecue places in Austin are going for in terms of ambiance,” I thought to myself as I sat there perspiring in front of a barely-working window AC unit. I sipped my iced tea and ate my jalapeno sausage quite happily.

Afterward there were antiques to gaze at … lamps made of ceramic jaguars, gorgeous old secretaries with concealed drawers, hobbit-looking salt and pepper shakers, heavy marble-and-ironwork tables, colors from every decade, and oh, yes, a bit of antique crochet in a trunk, hanging out with a dog sweater made from an old shirt front.

It was a lovely day, Saturday.