My childhood was spent on the cusp of the countryside, where the suburbs met the sweeping fields. When the wind blew our way, the gentle lowing of cattle soundtracked the usual small-town pursuits - lawnmowing, seed-sowing, leaf-blowing - and at the end of our cul-de-sac, I could choose my own adventure.
Turn right, and I’d be heading for the shopping centre, beloved Boots lipbalm in pocket; turn left, and the streets soon made way for the wide open. Not far from home, there were bales to scale, streams to wade, and farm friends - two-legged and four to visit. And for that, I needed wellies.
Not that it would have mattered if I didn’t have my own pair, of course. I suspect there might be an unofficial rural rulebook somewhere, stating that…
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The Simple Things (Digital) - 1 Issue, October 2022