This is my neighborhood. My home. My piece of the world. I share it with many other good people.
And lots of wildlife, like these two visitors. They are standing under my apple tree. There are probably still apples under the snow that they are digging for.
Here's the thing. I love it here. I don't want it ruined. I like that folks around here don't care what kind of car you drive, are friendly, and are polite.
The culture in this place is accepting, humble, slow-paced, and courteous. We're neighbors and while we spend a great deal of time leaving each other alone, when we do interact it's kind and unselfish.
A bar in the town 50 miles south just had to create a policy that banned out of state people, not because they were out of state, but because these visitors were rude to the point of belligerence.
So come and visit, or even move here. But leave your condescending, rude, grasping attitudes back home. Leave your ideas that you are city superior and we are lowly country bumpkins. Don't think you can come here and tell us how how to live.
Remember, for the love of Pete, that you are fleeing a broken, bankrupt place. Assimilate to freedom and friendliness.
Our country ways are why you're attracted to this place after all.
And don't forget to bring your coat.
*All photos were taken by me with my camera.