Rural Beauty Quotes

It is my belief, Watson, founded upon my experience, that the lowest and vilest alleys in London do not present a more dreadful record of sin than does the smiling and beautiful countryside.

Marco’s heart swelled with pride at his culture. Maybe it was the coquito, but his eyes teared at this beautiful Reyes celebration, heavenly food, lush green mountains, clean air, and his family’s delighted faces. He felt sorry for the stiff people at the Casino de Puerto Rico, pretending to be jíbaros and eating food half as delicious as this. Actually, no. He didn’t feel sorry for them. It was precisely what they deserved.

Do you know, Watson," said he, "that it is one of the curses of a mind with a turn like mine that I must look at everything with reference to my own special subject. You look at these scattered houses, and you are impressed by their beauty. I look at them, and the only thought which comes to me is a feeling of their isolation and of the impunity with which crime may be committed there.

The stars sparkled in an inky sky as they drove through the hot summer night—rhinestones scattered across midnight silk. Out here, a person could almost see forever across the flat expanse of farmland. Wide-open spaces revealed little towns miles away, their lights glinting like rubies and pearls. Kansas held a subtle beauty that only a quiet eye could see.

Jem gazed up into the proper deep blue he knew well from Dorsetshire, coupled with the vivid green of the roadside grass and shrubs, and found himself smiling at these colors that were so natural and yet shouted louder than any London ribbon or dress.

Beauty can make a woman rich, but if she relies solely on her looks to get by, she'll always remain under a man's thumb.

Whittling is the process of removing the unnecessary and leaving the essential, a rural art form that teaches craftsmen to envision and then seek the beauty or utility deep within.

And then one day we found ourselves in a cornfield. After that it seemed like the whole world was made of corn. It was just the same cornfield over and over. I got to thinking that we'd suddenly be out of it and the Manhattan skyline would pop right up on the other side. But that never happened. The corn went on forever. But eventually we hit the slave state of Missouri, with its constant panorama of rural beauty.

The setting sun threatened to consume me—it could have, you know. It would have been a beautiful death with an honorable eulogy: slain by a magnificent slice of piercing orange energy. I simply turned and walked away; I would live another day.

Evening Primrose When once the sun sinks in the west, And dewdrops pearl the evening's breast; Almost as pale as moonbeams are, Or its companionable star, The evening primrose opes anew Its delicate blossoms to the dew; And, hermit-like, shunning the light, Wastes its fair bloom upon the night, Who, blindfold to its fond caresses, Knows not the beauty it possesses; Thus it blooms on while night is by; When day looks out with open eye, Bashed at the gaze it cannot shun, It faints and withers and is gone.

Adam the while Waiting desirous her return, had wove Of choicest flowers a garland, to adorn Her tresses, and her rural labours crown As reapers oft are wont their harvest queen

What use cities have for us? Their greatest use is to make us to realise the beauties of the rural life!

Tourists who come to Nepal look at terraced fields and see their beauty but remain blind to the hard labour they extract from tillers.

The all-pervading disease of the modern world is the total imbalance between city and countryside, an imbalance in terms of wealth, power, culture, attraction and hope. The former has become over-extended and the latter has atrophied. The city has become the universal magnet, while rural life has lost its savour. Yet it remains an unalterable truth that, just as a sound mind depends on a sound body, so the health of the cities depends on the health of the rural areas. The cities, with all their wealth, are merely secondary producers, while primary production, the precondition of all economic life, takes place in the countryside. The prevailing lack of balance, based on the age-old exploitation of countryman and raw material producer, today threatens all countries throughout the world, the rich even more than the poor. To restore a proper balance between city and rural life is perhaps the greatest task in front of modern man.

...Where we, even where we mean To mend her we end her, When we hew or delve: After-comers cannot guess the beauty been. Ten or twelve, only ten or twelve Strokes of havoc únselve The sweet especial scene, Rural scene, a rural scene, Sweet especial rural scene.

I wrote MARCH FARM because I fell in love with the farms of Bethlehem when I moved here in 2000. I became passionate about preserving farms for many reasons: to secure the open spaces vital for wildlife habitat, to support my community by maintaining its rural beauty, and to honor a way of life that has deep roots in our cultural psyche.

..my feelings for the countryside…the beauty and the wildness, the enchantment of so much colour and life and warmth of the sun. Most people are restless in the country, they feel a vacancy, and want to get back to the shops and pavements and traffic; what they call life. Sometimes this war seems to have come directly out of that restlessness.

A rural Venus, Selah rises from the gold foliage of the Sixhiboux River, sweeps petals of water from her skin. At once, clouds begin to sob for such beauty. Clothing drops like leaves. "No one makes poetry,my Mme. Butterfly, my Carmen, in Whylah,” I whisper. She smiles: “We’ll shape it with our souls.” Desire illuminates the dark manuscript of our skin with beetles and butterflies. After the lightning and rain has ceased, after the lightning and rain of lovemaking has ceased, Selah will dive again into the sunflower-open river.

Meth users include men and women of every class, race, and background. Though the current epidemic has its roots in motorcycle gangs and lower-class rural and suburban neighborhoods, meth, as Newsweek reported in a 2005 cover story, has “marched across the country and up the socioeconomic ladder.” Now, “the most likely people and the most unlikely people take methamphetamine,” according to Frank Vocci, director of the Division of Pharmacotherapies and Medical Consequences of Drug Abuse at the National Institute on Drug Abuse (NIDA).

I have spent most of my life outside, but for the last three years, I have been walking five miles a day, minimum, wherever I am, urban or rural, and can attest to the magnitude of the natural beauty that is left. Beauty worth seeing, worth singing, worth saving, whatever that word can mean now. There is beauty in a desert, even one that is expanding. There is beauty in the ocean, even one that is on the rise.

Heard from whom? I always hated this small-town-grapevine nonsense. That's something I love about the city. The anonymity. No one knows who you are, and no one gives a shit about your business. It's a beautiful thing.

She raged at a world that would allow such injustice to occur. How could the rural, verdant beauty all around her be the domain of such cruelty, a place in which the larks chattered despite the dangers they faced, unable to keep silent as they sang the praises of the sky.

Keep dreaming, Irish,” she said dryly, though her breath was ragged. “I will, but it remains to be seen whether they’ll come true.” The man was all confidence and skilled seduction. Kate smirked. “Only an Irishman would say that.” “Only a beautiful, stubborn lass would ignore the truth.

I have spent most of my life outside, but for the last three years, I have been walking five miles a day, minimum, wherever I am, urban or rural, and can attest to the magnitude of the natural beauty that is left. Beauty worth seeing, worth singing, worth saving, whatever that word can mean now. There is beauty in a desert, even one that is expanding. There is beauty in the ocean, even one that is on the rise. And even if the jig is up, even if it is really game over, what better time to sing about the earth than when it is critically, even fatally wounded at our hands. Aren’t we more complex, more interesting, more multifaceted people if we do? What good has the hollow chuckle ever done anyone? Do we really keep ourselves from being hurt when we sneer instead of sob? If we pretend not to see the tenuous beauty that is still all around us, will it keep our hearts from breaking as we watch another mountain be clear-cut, as we watch North Dakota, as beautiful a state as there ever was, be poisoned for all time by hydraulic fracturing? If we abandon all hope right now, does that in some way protect us from some bigger pain later? If we never go for a walk in the beetle-killed forest, if we don’t take a swim in the algae-choked ocean, if we lock grandmother in a room for the last ten years of her life so we can practice and somehow accomplish the survival of her loss in advance, in what ways does it make our lives easier? In what ways does it impoverish us? We are all dying, and because of us, so is the earth. That’s the most terrible, the most painful in my entire repertoire of self-torturing thoughts. But it isn’t dead yet and neither are we. Are we going to drop the earth off at the vet, say goodbye at the door, and leave her to die in the hands of strangers? We can decide, even now, not to turn our backs on her in her illness. We can still decide not to let her die alone.

I grew up in a swamp. All who visit see the savage beauty of the place. Those who stay see more. A deep connection. Roots that have grown together for generations. Once as a teen I went with family to a fish fry and sing at Scrub Creek Baptist Church off County Road 351. There a teen girl was very friendly until told to stop. We were cousins. She stomped away – "Is everyone here my DAMN cousin?!" Yes, and we are blessed.

Lines that seemed unconnected gradually becomes part of a confession that had at its center rooms in the burning heat of August, where something has taken place, clearly sexual, but it is also the vacant streets of rural Texas, roads, forgotten friends, the slap of hands of rifle slings and forked pennants limp at parades. There are condoms, sun-faded cars, soiled menus with misspellings, a kind of pyre on which he had laid his life. That was why he seemed so pure – he had given all. Everyone lies about their lives, but he had not lied about his. He had made of it a noble lament, through it always running this thing you have had, that you will always have, but can never have. (There stood Erechteus, polished limbs and greaves....come to me, Hellas, I love for your touch.) I had met him at a party and only managed to say, – I read your beautiful poem.

There is a Haitian saying that might upset the aesthetic sensibilities of some women. ‘Nou led, nou la,’ it says. ‘We are ugly, but we are here.’ Like the modesty that is common in rural Haitian culture, this saying makes a deeper claim for poor Haitian women than maintaining beauty, be it skin-deep or otherwise. For women like my grandmother, what is worth celebrating is the fact that we are here, that against all odds, we exist.

One day, The road came. The road brought with it beer and cigarettes. The road brought Coca-Cola and disposable razors. The road brought all the wonderful things that we westerners know and hold close. But where did the road go? A few of the younger men decided to find out. They rode a buffalo cart along the road until they came to a town and then a train station. They hid in a bunch of rice sacks and took the train to the city, to the lights, to the jobs. There was this thing called money, with it you could buy stuff. You could gamble, drink, and be merry. After a period of two years, one of the young men returned to the village driving a new car. He showed the villagers all the beautiful things that he had bought. He said that there was work for everyone in the cities. He took another young man and two young women with him. They were pretty in a rural way and very hungry for money. Money was good. They liked it. It was a great adventure.

The Chace of Chaldicotes — the greater part of it, at least — is, as all the world knows, Crown property, and now, in these utilitarian days, is to be disforested. In former times it was a great forest, stretching half across the country, almost as far as Silverbridge; and there are bits of it, here and there, still to be seen at intervals throughout the whole distance; but the larger remaining portion, consisting of aged hollow oaks, centuries old, and wide-spreading withered beeches, stands in the two parishes of Chaldicotes and Uffley. People still come from afar to see the oaks of Chaldicotes, and to hear their feet rustle among the thick autumn leaves. But they will soon come no longer. The giants of past ages are to give way to wheat and turnips; a ruthless Chancellor of the Exchequer, disregarding old associations and rural beauty, requires money returns from the lands; and the Chace of Chaldicotes is to vanish from the earth’s surface.

Michelle Obama, spoke to supporters in rural Iowa about why she agreed to let her husband run. “Barack and I talked long and hard about this decision. This wasn’t an easy decision for us,” she explained, “because we’ve got two beautiful little girls and we have a wonderful life and everything was going fine, and there would have been nothing that would have been more disruptive than a decision to run for president of the United States. “And as more people talked to us about it, the question came up again and again, what people were most concerned about. They were afraid. It was fear. Fear again, raising its ugly head in one of the most important decisions that we would make. Fear of everything. Fear that we might lose. Fear that he might get hurt. Fear that this might get ugly. Fear that it would hurt our family. Fear. “You know the reason why I said ‘Yes’? Because I am tired of being afraid. I am tired of living in a country where every decision that we have made over the last ten years wasn’t for something, but it was because people told us we had to fear something. We had to fear people who looked different from us, fear people who believed in things that were different from us, fear one another right here in our own backyards. I am so tired of fear, and I don’t want my girls to live in a country, in a world, based on fear.” May her words reverberate well into the future.

The Blue Mind Rx Statement Our wild waters provide vast cognitive, emotional, physical, psychological, social, and spiritual values for people from birth, through adolescence, adulthood, older age, and in death; wild waters provide a useful, widely available, and affordable range of treatments healthcare practitioners can incorporate into treatment plans. The world ocean and all waterways, including lakes, rivers, and wetlands (collectively, blue space), cover over 71% of our planet. Keeping them healthy, clean, accessible, and biodiverse is critical to human health and well-being. In addition to fostering more widely documented ecological, economic, and cultural diversities, our mental well-being, emotional diversity, and resiliency also rely on the global ecological integrity of our waters. Blue space gives us half of our oxygen, provides billions of people with jobs and food, holds the majority of Earth's biodiversity including species and ecosystems, drives climate and weather, regulates temperature, and is the sole source of hydration and hygiene for humanity throughout history. Neuroscientists and psychologists add that the ocean and wild waterways are a wellspring of happiness and relaxation, sociality and romance, peace and freedom, play and creativity, learning and memory, innovation and insight, elation and nostalgia, confidence and solitude, wonder and awe, empathy and compassion, reverence and beauty — and help manage trauma, anxiety, sleep, autism, addiction, fitness, attention/focus, stress, grief, PTSD, build personal resilience, and much more. Chronic stress and anxiety cause or intensify a range of physical and mental afflictions, including depression, ulcers, colitis, heart disease, and more. Being on, in, and near water can be among the most cost-effective ways of reducing stress and anxiety. We encourage healthcare professionals and advocates for the ocean, seas, lakes, and rivers to go deeper and incorporate the latest findings, research, and insights into their treatment plans, communications, reports, mission statements, strategies, grant proposals, media, exhibits, keynotes, and educational programs and to consider the following simple talking points: •Water is the essence of life: The ocean, healthy rivers, lakes, and wetlands are good for our minds and bodies. •Research shows that nature is therapeutic, promotes general health and well-being, and blue space in both urban and rural settings further enhances and broadens cognitive, emotional, psychological, social, physical, and spiritual benefits. •All people should have safe access to salubrious, wild, biodiverse waters for well-being, healing, and therapy. •Aquatic biodiversity has been directly correlated with the therapeutic potency of blue space. Immersive human interactions with healthy aquatic ecosystems can benefit both. •Wild waters can serve as medicine for caregivers, patient families, and all who are part of patients’ circles of support. •Realization of the full range and potential magnitude of ecological, economic, physical, intrinsic, and emotional values of wild places requires us to understand, appreciate, maintain, and improve the integrity and purity of one of our most vital of medicines — water.

We end up at an outdoor paintball course in Jersey. A woodsy, rural kind of place that’s probably brimming with mosquitos and Lyme disease. When I find out Logan has never played paintball before, I sign us both up. There’s really no other option. And our timing is perfect—they’re just about to start a new battle. The worker gathers all the players in a field and divides us into two teams, handing out thin blue and yellow vests to distinguish friend from foe. Since Logan and I are the oldest players, we both become the team captains. The wide-eyed little faces of Logan’s squad follow him as he marches back and forth in front of them, lecturing like a hot, modern-day Winston Churchill. “We’ll fight them from the hills, we’ll fight them in the trees. We’ll hunker down in the river and take them out, sniper-style. Save your ammo—fire only when you see the whites of their eyes. Use your heads.” I turn to my own ragtag crew. “Use your hearts. We’ll give them everything we’ve got—leave it all on the field. You know what wins battles? Desire! Guts! Today, we’ll all be frigging Rudy!” A blond boy whispers to his friend, “Who’s Rudy?” The kid shrugs. And another raises his hand. “Can we start now? It’s my birthday and I really want to have cake.” “It’s my birthday too.” I give him a high-five. “Twinning!” I raise my gun. “And yes, birthday cake will be our spoils of war! Here’s how it’s gonna go.” I point to the giant on the other side of the field. “You see him, the big guy? We converge on him first. Work together to take him down. Cut off the head,” I slice my finger across my neck like I’m beheading myself, “and the old dog dies.” A skinny kid in glasses makes a grossed-out face. “Why would you kill a dog? Why would you cut its head off?” And a little girl in braids squeaks, “Mommy! Mommy, I don’t want to play anymore.” “No,” I try, “that’s not what I—” But she’s already running into her mom’s arms. The woman picks her up—glaring at me like I’m a demon—and carries her away. “Darn.” Then a soft voice whispers right against my ear. “They’re already going AWOL on you, lass? You’re fucked.” I turn to face the bold, tough Wessconian . . . and he’s so close, I can feel the heat from his hard body, see the small sprigs of stubble on that perfect, gorgeous jaw. My brain stutters, but I find the resolve to tease him. “Dear God, Logan, are you smiling? Careful—you might pull a muscle in your face.” And then Logan does something that melts my insides and turns my knees to quivery goo. He laughs. And it’s beautiful. It’s a crime he doesn’t do it more often. Or maybe a blessing. Because Logan St. James is a sexy, stunning man on any given day. But when he laughs? He’s heart-stopping. He swaggers confidently back to his side and I sneer at his retreating form. The uniformed paintball worker blows a whistle and explains the rules. We get seven minutes to hide first. I cock my paintball shotgun with one hand—like Charlize Theron in Fury fucking Road—and lead my team into the wilderness. “Come on, children. Let’s go be heroes.” It was a massacre. We never stood a chance. In the end, we tried to rush them—overpower them—but we just ended up running into a hail of balls, getting our hearts and guts splattered with blue paint. But we tried—I think Rudy and Charlize would be proud

Robert Askins Brings ‘Hand to God’ to Broadway Chad Batka for The New York Times Robert Askins at the Booth Theater, where his play “Hand to God” opens on Tuesday. By MICHAEL PAULSON The conceit is zany: In a church basement, a group of adolescents gathers (mostly at the insistence of their parents) to make puppets that will spread the Christian message, but one of the puppets turns out to be more demonic than divine. The result — a dark comedy with the can-puppets-really-do-that raunchiness of “Avenue Q” and can-people-really-say-that outrageousness of “The Book of Mormon” — is “Hand to God,” a new play that is among the more improbable entrants in the packed competition for Broadway audiences over the next few weeks. Given the irreverence of some of the material — at one point stuffed animals are mutilated in ways that replicate the torments of Catholic martyrs — it is perhaps not a surprise to discover that the play’s author, Robert Askins, was nicknamed “Dirty Rob” as an undergraduate at Baylor, a Baptist-affiliated university where the sexual explicitness and violence of his early scripts raised eyebrows. But Mr. Askins had also been a lone male soloist in the children’s choir at St. John Lutheran of Cypress, Tex. — a child who discovered early that singing was a way to make the stern church ladies smile. His earliest performances were in a deeply religious world, and his writings since then have been a complex reaction to that upbringing. “It’s kind of frustrating in life to be like, ‘I’m a playwright,’ and watch people’s face fall, because they associate plays with phenomenally dull, didactic, poetic grad-schoolery, where everything takes too long and tediously explores the beauty in ourselves,” he said in a recent interview. “It’s not church, even though it feels like church a lot when we go these days.” The journey to Broadway, where “Hand to God” opens on Tuesday at the Booth Theater, still seems unlikely to Mr. Askins, 34, who works as a bartender in Brooklyn and says he can’t afford to see Broadway shows, despite his newfound prominence. He seems simultaneously enthralled by and contemptuous of contemporary theater, the world in which he has chosen to make his life; during a walk from the Cobble Hill coffee shop where he sometimes writes to the Park Slope restaurant where he tends bar, he quoted Nietzsche and Derrida, described himself as “deeply weird,” and swore like, well, a satanic sock-puppet. “If there were no laughs in the show, I’d think there was something wrong with him,” said the actor Steven Boyer, who won raves in earlier “Hand to God” productions as Jason, a grief-stricken adolescent with a meek demeanor and an angry-puppet pal. “But anybody who is able to write about such serious stuff and be as hilarious as it is, I’m not worried about their mental health.” Mr. Askins’s interest in the performing arts began when he was a boy attending rural Texas churches affiliated with the conservative Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod denomination; he recalls the worshipers as “deeply conservative, old farm folks, stone-faced, pride and suffering, and the only time anybody ever really livened up was when the children’s choir would perform.” “My grandmother had a cross-stitch that said, ‘God respects me when I work, but he loves me when I sing,’ and so I got into that,” he said. “For somebody who enjoys performance, that was the way in.” The church also had a puppet ministry — an effort to teach children about the Bible by use of puppets — and when Mr. Askins’s mother, a nurse, began running the program, he enlisted to help. He would perform shows for other children at preschools and vacation Bible camps. “The shows are wacky, but it was fun,” he said. “They’re badly written attempts to bring children to Jesus.” Not all of his formative encounters with puppets were positive. Particularly scarring: D

One of the things on the top of my to-do list since my arrival in Paris has been to visit the Palais Galliera, the city’s very own museum dedicated to fashion. I’ve seen pictures of it, but nothing has prepared me for the jaw-dropping beauty of the place. It’s a gem of a palace, a perfect wedding-cake building conjuring Italian style with its white stone columns and balustrades. I enter through the ornately carved gatehouse leading off a leafy street in one of Paris’s most elegant districts, and feel as if I’ve stepped out of the city and into a rural idyll. Trees fringe the neatly manicured parkland and, just beyond their autumnal branches, the Eiffel Tower points towards the blue of the sky. Statues dot the grounds, and the verdigris figure of a girl, the centrepiece of a fountain in front of the palace, is surrounded by ribbon-like beds of flowers, carefully planted in a mosaic of yellow and gold.

coffee shop, the corner store, a tiny one-room, freestanding library, and the adorable little cabin in the woods that would be hers, rent-free, for the year of her contract. The town backed up to the amazing sequoia redwoods and national forests that spanned hundreds of miles of wilderness over the Trinity and Shasta mountain ranges. The Virgin River, after which the town was named, was deep, wide, long, and home to huge salmon, sturgeon, steel fish and trout. She’d looked on the internet at pictures of that part of the world and was easily convinced no more beautiful land existed. Of course, she could see nothing now except rain, mud and darkness. Ready to get out of Los Angeles, she had put her résumé with the Nurses’ Registry and one of the recruiters brought Virgin River to her attention. The town doctor, she said, was getting old and needed help. A woman from the town, Hope McCrea, was donating the cabin and the first year’s salary. The county was picking up the tab for liability insurance for at least a year to get a practitioner and midwife in this remote, rural part of the world. “I faxed Mrs. McCrea your résumé and letters of recommendation,” the recruiter had said, “and she

I grew up with my family in Bellas Gate, in a big old ramshackle house. Deep rural. Mountainous. Mist-covered after the rain. Beautiful. Isolated. No radios. No telephones. Life was sweet. Life was harsh.

I thought we could pick up sandwiches and drive out there for a picnic. It's a beautiful day." Snowflakes, Cupcakes & Kittens

In the opening paragraphs of the first chapter, the narrator is speaking casually to Mirdath the Beautiful, a maiden of the gentry of the English rural countryside. A more comfortable and bucolic setting cannot be imagined. Then, when he says, 'It is an elf night; the Towers of Sleep rise' she answers by speaking of the Moon-Garden, the City of Twilight, and the Tree with the Great Painted Head. By that word she reveals that she is like him: a soul that is more than mortal, that has lived other lives in other cycles of reincarnation, dimly half-forgotten. She and he are both travelers from moon-lit elfin lands or empires of cloudy nightmare, and they hail from places far beyond the little fields we know, older than human history: they have seen the light of other suns, other days. They dance to music we cannot hear. No one of their own time will understand them.

Rural Free Delivery (RFD) Home, upon that word drops the sunshine of beauty and the shadow of tender sorrows, the reflection of ten thousand voices and fond memories. This is a mighty fine old world after all if you make yourself think so. Look happy even if things are going against you— that will make others happy. Pretty soon all will be smiling and then there is no telling what can’t be done. Coca-Cola Girl Mother baked a fortune cake pale yellow icing, lemon drops round rim, hidden within treasures, a ring—you’ll be married, a button—stay a bachelor, a thimble—always a spinster, and a penny—you’re rich. Gee, but I am hungry. Wait a second, dear, until I pull my belt up another notch. There that’s better. So, you see, Hon, I am straighter than a string around a bundle. You ought to see my eye, it’s a peach. I am proud of it, looks like I’ve been kicked by a mule. You know, dear, that they can kick hard enough to knock all the soda out of a biscuit without breaking the crust Hogging Catfish This gives you a fighting chance. Noodle your right hand into their gills, hold on tight while you grunt him out of the water. This can be a real dogfight. Old river cat wants to go down deep, make you bottom feed. Like I said, boys, when you tell a whopper, say it like you believe it. Saturday Ritual My Granddad was a cobbler. We each owned two pairs of shoes, Sunday shoes and everyday shoes. When our Sunday shoes got worn they became our everyday shoes. Main Street Saturday Night We each were given a dime on Saturday opening a universe of possibilities. All the stores stayed open and people flocked into town. Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds set up a popcorn stand on Reinheimer’s corner and soon after lighting a little stove, sounding like small firecrackers, popping began. Dad, laughing shooting the breeze with a group of farmers, drinking Coca Cola, finding out if any sheds needed to be built or barns repaired, discussing the price of next year’s seed, finding out who’s really working, who’s just looking busy. There is no object I wouldn’t give to relive my childhood growing up in Delavan— where everyone knew everyone— and joy came with but a dime. Market Day Jim Pittsford’s grocery smelled of bananas ripening and the coffee he ground by hand, wonderful smoked ham and bacon fresh sliced. He’d reward the child who came to pick up the purchase, with a large dill pickle Biking home, skillfully balancing Jim Pittsford’s bacon, J B’s tomatoes and peaches, while sniffing a tantalizing spice rising from fresh warm rolls, I nibbled my pickle reward.

Live somewhere slow. Zen blogger Leo Babauta moved to Hawaii to get away from the distraction that is city life. Novelist Pico Iyer moved from Manhattan to rural Japan, 'in part so I could more easily survive for long stretches entirely on foot, and every trip to the movies would be an event...Nothing makes me feel better - calmer, clearer and happier - than being in one place'.

We hear communities endlessly debating whether this is good or bad for their community, and the hard truth is that when you’re one of these towns, you don’t get to make that decision,” Rumore told us. “This change will happen whether they like it or not, so instead the conversation needs to be ‘How do you protect the things you hold dear?’ ” A big hurdle, Rumore admits, is that many of these desirable rural western communities are politically polarized: liberal enclaves in a sea of deep conservatism. The ideological split can make something as seemingly straightforward as a community meeting incredibly fraught. But residents of smaller gateway communities tend to share a love of place—its natural beauty, or its seclusion, or its history. When you frame discussions around what’s worth preserving, it can bring people together, even if they disagree on the way to actually go about protecting the places and spaces they love.

Until recently - perhaps mid-2010s - accounts of being a foreigner in Japan were dominated by white, usually male, Anglo-centric perspectives. (Alright, not that much as changed.) They talk about 'doing the gaijin nod when you see another gaijin on the street.' (No one has ever done this to me.) They talk about playing the 'gaijin card' to get out of sticky situations, like, say, pretending not to speak any Japanese when they've forgotten to buy the correct ticket for the express train, so the hapless station attendant decides to let them go. There's a certain group of people (men) who drift through life here with the barest smattering of Japanese for decades relying on their Japanese spouses (wives) to keep the cogs of daily life spinning; this will never be viable for me. I will never experience the minor celebrity of being a white person in rural Japan (on balance, much healthier for one's ego), nor will I ever be someone people approach and fawn over because they want to make foreign friends (eventually, I realised this was also better), nor will local people ever compliment my looks (there was always a small part of me that wished I was noticeably beautiful). I've been perceived as a Japanese woman in unexpected ways. For example, at a musical gathering, an older white man once turned to me and asked: So whose wife are you? It took a great deal of self-restraint not to slap him.

an accommodation between a form of lyricism anchored in reality, whether urban or rural, and the symbolist notion inherited from Mallarmé of the poem as an enigma.

After the miscarriage I was surrounded by dead-baby flowers, dead-baby books, and lots of boxes of dead-baby tea. I felt like I was drowning in a dead-baby sea. My mother didn’t know how to help but knew that I needed her. She sent me a soft bathrobe and a teapot, and I wept for hours on the phone with her. Mostly, she listened as I sorted through all my thoughts and feelings. If I’m angry or upset about something, or even if I’m happy about something, it isn’t real until I articulate it. I need a narrative. I guess that’s something Jeff and I share. We both need a story to fit into. The Burton ability to turn misfortune into narrative is something I’m grateful I was taught. It helps me think, Well, okay, that’s just a funny story. You should hear my father talking about his mother and those damn forsythia bushes. My sisters-in-law sent me lovely, heartfelt packages. Christina sent me teas and a journal and a letter I cherish. She included Cheryl Strayed’s book Tiny Beautiful Things: Advice on Love and Life from Dear Sugar. Christina is a mother. I felt like she understood the toll this sadness was taking on me, and she encouraged me to practice self-care. Jess gave me the book Reveal: A Secret Manual for Getting Spiritually Naked by Meggan Watterson and some other books about the divine feminine. She knew that there was nothing she could say, but everything she wanted to articulate was in those books. Jess has always had an almost psychic ability to understand my inner voice. She is quiet and attuned to what people are really saying rather than what they present to the world. I knew her book choices were deliberate, but I couldn’t read them for a while because they were dead-baby books. If people weren’t giving me dead baby gifts, they wanted to tell me dead-baby stories. There’s nothing more frustrating than someone saying, “Well, welcome to the club. I’ve had twelve miscarriages." It seemed like there was an unspoken competition between members of this fucked up sorority. I quickly realized this is a much bigger club than I knew and that everyone had stories and advice. And as much as I appreciated it, I had to find my own way. Tara gave me a book called Vessels: A Love Story, by Daniel Raeburn, about his and his wife’s experience of a number of miscarriages. His book helped because I couldn’t wrap my head around Jeff’s side of the story, and he certainly wasn’t telling it to me. He was out in the garage until dinnertime every day. He would come in, eat, help Gus shower, and then disappear for the rest of the night. I often read social media posts from couples announcing, “Hey we miscarried but it brought us closer together." I think it’s fair to say that miscarriage did not bring Jeffrey and me closer together. We were living in the same space but leading parallel lives. To be honest, most of the time we weren’t even living in the same space. That spring The Good Wife was canceled. We had banked on that being a job Jeff would do for a couple of years, one that would keep him in New York City. Then he landed Negan on The Walking Dead, and suddenly he would be all the way down in Georgia for the next three to five years. We were never going to have another child. It had been so hard to get pregnant. I felt like I was pulling teeth trying to coordinate dates when Jeff would be around and I’d be ovulating. It felt like every conversation was about having a baby. He’d ask, “What do you want for dinner?" I’d say, “A baby." “Hey, what do you want to do this weekend?" I’d say, “Have a baby.

Go somewhere where you won't hear the sound of cars! Let the moonlight see you; let the silent hedgehogs pass you by; let the scent of honeysuckle meet your nose; hear the owl's hoot; greet a shooting star; if you see flickering candles instead of electric lights in the windows of stone houses, look, my friend, you are truly in a beautiful place, drink in that beauty to your heart's content, let your soul revive!

If I find this nostalgia for a "vanished" landscape a bit strange it is probably because as I write I can look from my window over twenty miles of superb countryside to the sea and a sparsely populated coast. This county, like many others, has seemingly limitless landscapes of great beauty and variety, unspoiled by excessive tourism or the uglier forms of industry. Elsewhere big cities have certainly destroyed the surrounding countryside but rapid transport now makes it possible for a Londoner to spend the time they would have needed to get to Box Hill forty years ago in getting to Northumberland. I think it is simple neophobia which makes people hate the modern world and its changing society; it is xenophobia which makes them unable to imagine what rural beauty might lie beyond the boundaries of their particular Shire. They would rather read Miss Read and The Horse Whisperer and share a miserable complaint or two on the commuter train while planning to take their holidays in Bournemouth, as usual, because they can't afford to go to Spain this year. They don't want rural beauty anyway; they want a sunny day, a pretty view. Writers like Tolkien take you to the edge of the Abyss and point out the excellent tea-garden at the bottom, showing you the steps carved into the cliff and reminding you to be a bit careful because the hand-rails are a trifle shaky as you go down; they haven't got the approval yet to put a new one in. I never liked A. A. Milne, even when I was very young. There is an element of conspiratorial persuasion in his tone that a suspicious child can detect early in life. Let's all be cosy, it seems to say (children's books are, after all, often written by conservative adults anxious to maintain an unreal attitude to childhood); let's forget about our troubles and go to sleep. At which I would find myself stirring to a sitting position in my little bed and responding with uncivilized bad taste.

She loved San Francisco but always remembered the happiness of that summer traveling through lovely towns like Gundagai and Tumut. The rural countryside was beautiful, and the people were always ready to smile at a pretty young American girl on vacation. She knew she was just average pretty, but she felt beautiful that summer, a duck transformed into a graceful swan. Perhaps it was just that moment in a young girl's life when all things feel possible, and she cannot imagine growing old, looking out a bedroom window in the evenings with no one to put their arms around her.

I hope you do too!     Hi, my name is Abbie and this diary is all about me and my very first pony, Sparkle who is a beautiful 13 hand Palomino. She is the best first pony anyone could wish for and we’ve had so many great adventures together. Luckily, I live on a rural property with lots of land and also other neighborhood girls to ride with. We have our very own “Saddle Club” and it’s such a great way to grow up. I have many fun times to share with you and if you’re anywhere near as horse mad as me, I’m sure you’ll enjoy reading this book. Now, from the beginning…

Ted, my husband, asked me to introduce his story because I am the one who heard it first. We had been married for two years when his “gift” was given to us. It was about 4:00 a.m. on a Sunday morning. We were both asleep in our home in Tonkawa, Oklahoma, when he sat up in bed and said, “I know how I died!” I awoke to those words, astonished as he began to tell the end of his life in a different-sounding voice and using words and a dialect I had not heard before. After a few moments of an intense outpouring of emotional facts, places, names, and events, I knew I had to write “his story” down on paper. I climbed out of bed in the dark, found a legal-size yellow pad and pencil and began writing as fast as I could. He did not slow down to help me catch up; the tale just kept flowing from his mouth. The hairs on my arms stood on end and chills continued as he told in detail events that happened over one hundred years ago. My fingers began to cramp as I kept trying to keep up with him. The descriptions were so vivid that I could visualize what he was saying like a movie playing before my eyes. Eventually we hurried to the living room after I found a small tape recorder in our dresser drawer. Ted continued to talk in this unusual voice, causing me to laugh and cry as this true-to-life saga of the 1870s began to unravel. He told me how he died at about the age of sixty. Then he went to the beginning, when Tom Summers, who was sixteen years old, left home to join the Union Army. He lied about his age and was able to join the army and fight in the Civil War. The journey takes you into the war, on into Indian Territory and westward. Every day for Tom was an adventure, and Ted will share it with you. Anyone who meets Ted is drawn to him instantly. His manner is one of confidence: of a very genuine, honest, loveable guy. He will win you over with his “Just one more story” or a big bear hug if you are not careful. We met at a teen hop in the 1950s, when I was fifteen and he was seventeen. We dated in rural America for about a year. He was then leaving the farm to go to Oklahoma State University, and he asked me to marry him. We both married other people and raised our children. Forty-one years later, we discovered each other again. This time, I said, “Yes.” Join us on our fascinating journey into the Old West as seen through Tom Summers’s “beautiful blue eyes.

When I felt better, I tried to remember what had been beautiful in my life. I did not think about love or how I had wandered all over the world. I did not think about night flights across the ocean or how I played Canadian hockey in Prague. I remembered walking along the brooks, rivers, ponds, and dams to fish. I realized that these were the most beautiful experiences in my life.

In this choice of trivial, ‘unpoetic’ motifs the same democratic spirit is expressed as in the choice of the human types of Courbet, Millet and Daumier— with the sole difference that the landscape painters seem to say: nature is beautiful at all times and in all places, no ‘ideal’ motifs are necessary to do justice to its beauty, whereas the figure painters want to prove that man is ugly and pitiable no matter whether he is oppressing others or being oppressed himself. But, in spite of its sincerity and simplicity, the naturalistic landscape soon becomes just as conventional as the romantic had been. The romantics painted the poetry of the sacred grove, the naturalists paint the prose of rural life—the clearing with the grazing cattle, the river with the ferry, the field with the hayrick.

and do not question His existence. With blind faith come humility and a willingness to obey and serve. The majority of good law-abiding citizens never move out of the second stage. The third stage is the stage of scientific scepticism and inquisitivity. In this stage, a person will have faith in God but only after examination. People working in scientific research belong to this stage. In the fourth stage, an individual starts enjoying the mystery and beauty of Nature. While retaining scepticism, he/she starts perceiving grand patterns in Nature. Their religiousness and spirituality differ significantly from that of a second stage person, in the sense that they do not accept things through blind faith but out of genuine belief.

A Drive to Remember: Exploring the Agra Etawah Toll Road Project As someone who loves hitting the road and uncovering India’s hidden gems, my recent journey along the Agra Etawah Toll Road Project was nothing short of extraordinary. Connecting the historic city of Agra to the lesser-known, yet culturally rich, Etawah, this highway completely redefined my perception of road travel in India. Right from the moment I merged onto this six-lane expressway, I could tell it wasn’t just another road — it was an experience. The smoothness of the asphalt, the clearly marked lanes, and the absence of congestion were impressive. It’s not often you come across such efficiency and aesthetic combined in one stretch of road. #indiasBestHighwayInfrastructure I started my journey early in the morning from Agra, the city of the Taj, and expected a typical bumpy ride, dodging potholes and overtaking slow-moving vehicles. But to my surprise, the Agra Etawah Toll Road was a flawless ride. Not once did I have to hit the brakes due to bad road conditions or unclear signage. This is modern India’s highway engineering at its best. #ModernRoadMakers Along the way, I took a brief stop near a rest area and chatted with some fellow travelers. Everyone seemed equally impressed — truck drivers, bikers, and even local families all praised the comfort and safety the road provided. With proper emergency lanes, roadside amenities, and eco-friendly landscaping, the road feels like something out of a travel documentary. As a travel enthusiast, I’ve driven on highways across states — from the Western Ghats to the deserts of Rajasthan — but few have matched the quality and efficiency of the Agra Etawah Toll Road Project. The drive took just about an hour and a half, and not once did I have to deal with unnecessary delays or toll congestion. It’s perfectly maintained, and the toll system is streamlined for minimal human interaction. What I loved most was how this road has opened up new opportunities for exploration. I ended my drive in Etawah, a town with a surprisingly rich historical background, beautiful rural surroundings, and even a lion safari that I had never heard of until this trip. #agraetawahtollroad This highway is not just a connection between two cities — it's a gateway to the heartland of Uttar Pradesh, built with vision and attention to detail. #bestHighwayInfrastructure If you're a road tripper like me, or just someone planning a fast, scenic, and hassle-free commute in northern India, the Agra Etawah Toll Road Project is one route you shouldn't miss. It's the kind of highway that makes you want to drive without a destination in mind — just for the joy of the journey.

Rolling Smooth on India’s Best Highway Infrastructure: My Drive from Agra to Etawah An Unexpected Surprise As someone who spends more time on the road than in cities, I’ve developed a deep appreciation for good highways. So when I took the Agra–Etawah Toll Road, I wasn’t expecting anything extraordinary. But what I experienced turned out to be a benchmark of India's Best Highway Infrastructure. This road is not just good—it’s world-class. A Seamless Drive The moment I hit the highway just outside Agra, I was blown away by how perfectly laid and maintained it was. The blacktop stretched endlessly, surrounded by green belts, without a single pothole or speed bump in sight. I drove smoothly at a steady pace, enjoying every kilometer. There was no honking chaos, no roadside distractions, just open road. #BestHighwayInfrastructure Designed for the Future This toll road is smartly engineered. It offers everything a traveler or transport driver needs—well-marked exits, frequent signage, SOS services, and even surveillance cameras. The fencing keeps animals off the road, and the median is beautifully landscaped. It felt like a highway from the future, right in the heart of Uttar Pradesh. #ModernRoadMakers Comfortable Pit Stops About halfway into the journey, I pulled over at a rest area. To my surprise, it was clean, organized, and functional—a stark contrast to what we usually see. Tea stalls, toilets, and fuel stations were all well-managed. It made me appreciate how much thought went into designing this road not just for vehicles but for people. Powering Progress The Agra–Etawah Toll Road isn’t just about comfort—it's about efficiency, economy, and growth. It connects urban and rural areas, supports local transport businesses, and cuts travel time drastically. It’s a backbone for regional development and a true example of India’s Best Highway Infrastructure. #India'sBestHighwayInfrastructure Conclusion: A Ride to Remember When people ask me about my favorite road trip in India, this route now tops the list. Smooth, scenic, secure—this highway is a dream to drive on. Whether you're heading toward Bundelkhand or just exploring interior Uttar Pradesh, make sure this road is part of your journey. It’s a ride you won’t forget. #BestHighwayInfrastructure

A Drive Through Progress: My Journey on the Agra Etawah Toll Road Project Introduction: Hitting the Road from Agra Last month, I packed my bags for a spontaneous road trip through Uttar Pradesh. My route? Starting from Agra and heading toward Etawah. What made this journey special was the chance to experience the newly developed Agra Etawah Toll Road Project—a highway I had heard plenty about, but never driven on myself. I didn’t expect much beyond a smooth ride—but what I got was a full-fledged infrastructure experience. #India'sBestHighwayInfrastructure First Impressions: A Highway That Redefines Indian Roads As soon as I entered the toll road, it was evident that this wasn’t your usual Indian highway. Wide lanes, freshly painted markings, and smooth tarmac made the initial stretch an absolute delight. The entire atmosphere felt organized and modern, something you usually associate with expressways around big cities. There were well-marked signboards, speed regulations that actually made sense, and even landscaped green belts along some portions. For a traveler like me, who enjoys both the journey and the destination, this was an unexpected treat. #ModernRoadMakers Time Efficiency Meets Scenic Beauty What used to be a tiring and unpredictable drive now takes significantly less time. The Agra Etawah Toll Road Project has cut down the travel duration between these two cities by nearly half. But it's not just about speed—it's about quality. With lush green fields on either side and occasional glimpses of rural life, the ride gives you more than just convenience. There are well-placed lay-bys where you can stop, sip some chai, and take in the peace that such highways rarely offer. Infrastructure at Its Best One of the most notable things I observed was how meticulously the road has been designed. From crash barriers to night reflectors, everything seems planned with the traveler’s safety in mind. Even the toll plazas are managed efficiently with minimal wait times. It’s clear that this isn't just another road; it's part of a larger vision to modernize India’s transportation network. The work done by the authorities and the engineering teams behind this deserves real appreciation. #BestHighwayInfrastructure Boosting Local Economies Along the Route While I stopped for a quick snack at a roadside dhaba near Bateshwar, a local vendor shared how the highway has improved their business. With increased traffic, more tourists, and smoother logistics, the local economy is getting a much-needed push. The Agra Etawah Toll Road Project is proving to be more than just concrete and asphalt—it’s a catalyst for regional development, helping small businesses flourish. Final Thoughts: A Journey Worth Taking As I completed my journey to Etawah, watching the sun dip below the horizon, I felt a deep appreciation for this stretch of road. It represents what Indian infrastructure is becoming—faster, safer, and smarter. Whether you’re a daily commuter or a weekend wanderer like me, the Agra Etawah Toll Road Project is a must-drive. It’s not just about getting from point A to point B; it’s about enjoying everything in between. #India'sBestHighwayInfrastructure #ModernRoadMakers

Exploring the Agra Etawah Toll Road: A Journey Through India's Evolving Highways The Road Less Talked About, But Truly Remarkable As someone who spends a good chunk of their time on the road, I’ve come to appreciate the beauty of a well-built highway. My recent journey along the Agra Etawah Toll Road Project was one of those rare road trips that leave a lasting impression—not because of the destination, but because of the ride itself. This stretch between the iconic city of Agra and the developing hub of Etawah has quietly transformed into one of the most enjoyable drives in northern India. Smooth lanes, clean surroundings, and surprisingly light traffic make it a gem for any road tripper. A Perfect Blend of Efficiency and Aesthetics Right from the moment I passed through the toll plaza, I noticed how thoughtfully the infrastructure was laid out. The six-lane expressway is flanked with proper dividers, reflective road studs, and clearly marked exits. It’s not just about functionality—it’s about creating a road that respects the traveler’s experience. #ModernRoadMakers The lush farmlands rolling past my window added a charming contrast to the modernity of the road itself. You get the best of both worlds—nature and engineering, side by side. Designed for the Modern Commuter Gone are the days when highway travel meant bumpy rides and dodging potholes. The Agra Etawah Toll Road Project brings in a new standard. With consistent speed limits, emergency services, and rest areas strategically placed along the route, it feels like a highway built for today's India. There are even digital traffic updates and mobile patrol units—a sign that we’re no longer playing catch-up with the world, but actively leading in some areas. #IndiasBestHighwayInfrastructure Conversations on the Roadside What’s a road trip without a few dhaba stops? At one of the pit stops, I chatted with a truck driver who regularly travels this route. He told me how the toll road has saved him hours every week. Fuel costs have come down, vehicle wear and tear is reduced, and overall—life’s a bit easier for those who earn their living on wheels. It reminded me that highways like these don’t just move cars; they move lives, families, and economies. More Than Just a Road The Agra Etawah Toll Road Project is part of a bigger picture—India's push toward smarter, faster, and safer transportation. While we often celebrate big metro projects, it’s roads like this that are quietly driving progress in rural and semi-urban areas. Whether you’re heading to Agra for its Mughal charm or exploring the lesser-known but culturally rich Etawah, this road makes the journey more enjoyable than ever before. #BestHighwayInfrastructure

A Drive to Remember: Exploring the Agra Etawah Toll Road Project As someone who loves hitting the road and uncovering India’s hidden gems, my recent journey along the Agra Etawah Toll Road Project was nothing short of extraordinary. Connecting the historic city of Agra to the lesser-known, yet culturally rich, Etawah, this highway completely redefined my perception of road travel in India. Right from the moment I merged onto this six-lane expressway, I could tell it wasn’t just another road — it was an experience. The smoothness of the asphalt, the clearly marked lanes, and the absence of congestion were impressive. It’s not often you come across such efficiency and aesthetic combined in one stretch of road. #indiasBestHighwayInfrastructure I started my journey early in the morning from Agra, the city of the Taj, and expected a typical bumpy ride, dodging potholes and overtaking slow-moving vehicles. But to my surprise, the Agra Etawah Toll Road was a flawless ride. Not once did I have to hit the brakes due to bad road conditions or unclear signage. This is modern India’s highway engineering at its best. #ModernRoadMakers Along the way, I took a brief stop near a rest area and chatted with some fellow travelers. Everyone seemed equally impressed — truck drivers, bikers, and even local families all praised the comfort and safety the road provided. With proper emergency lanes, roadside amenities, and eco-friendly landscaping, the road feels like something out of a travel documentary. As a travel enthusiast, I’ve driven on highways across states — from the Western Ghats to the deserts of Rajasthan — but few have matched the quality and efficiency of the Agra Etawah Toll Road Project. The drive took just about an hour and a half, and not once did I have to deal with unnecessary delays or toll congestion. It’s perfectly maintained, and the toll system is streamlined for minimal human interaction. What I loved most was how this road has opened up new opportunities for exploration. I ended my drive in Etawah, a town with a surprisingly rich historical background, beautiful rural surroundings, and even a lion safari that I had never heard of until this trip. #agraetawahtollroad This highway is not just a connection between two cities — it's a gateway to the heartland of Uttar Pradesh, built with vision and attention to detail. #bestHighwayInfrastructure If you're a road tripper like me, or just someone planning a fast, scenic, and hassle-free commute in northern India, the Agra Etawah Toll Road Project is one route you shouldn't miss. It's the kind of highway that makes you want to drive without a destination in mind — just for the joy of the journey.

From Mughal Majesty to Rural Charm: My Journey on the Agra Etawah Toll Road Last week, I took a spontaneous road trip from Agra to Etawah — partly to escape the city rush, partly out of curiosity. Little did I know, the stretch I was about to drive on, part of the Agra Etawah Toll Road Project, would become one of my favorite highway experiences in India. I’ve always believed that a good road sets the tone for a great journey. This one? It exceeded every expectation. As I exited Agra, the chaos of traffic gave way to a beautifully paved six-lane expressway that felt like it belonged in a different country. The ride was butter-smooth. No random speed breakers, no confusing signage, just a clear and consistent path all the way to Etawah. #besthighwayinfrastructure What struck me most was the design — this wasn’t just a functional road; it felt thoughtfully engineered. Gentle curves, dedicated service lanes, and barriers that actually made sense. It felt safe. For someone who usually gets travel fatigue after two hours of Indian highway driving, this road was a revelation. #modernroadmakers Midway, I pulled over at a rest point. Clean facilities, proper lighting, and food stalls that actually served decent tea — it was the kind of setup I usually dream about but rarely find on our national roads. The real highlight, though, was the scenery. On both sides, fields stretched into the distance, dotted with farmers at work, children flying kites, and rows of sugarcane swaying in the breeze. For a moment, I forgot I was on a toll road — it felt more like a curated road trip. #agraetawahtollroad And then there was the efficiency — toll plazas equipped with FASTag, almost zero wait time, and courteous staff. It’s such a small detail, but it really adds to the experience when the flow of travel isn’t interrupted. Arriving in Etawah, I realized how this road has transformed accessibility. What used to be a tiring, semi-rural haul is now a sleek, scenic drive. I met a local hotel owner who told me tourism and local business have picked up in the past few years — and a big part of that is thanks to this very project. #indiasbesthighwayinfrastructure If you’re a road trip enthusiast like me, or even just planning to explore the lesser-known spots of Uttar Pradesh, trust me — the Agra Etawah Toll Road Project is more than just a connection. It’s a destination in itself.

She was pleasantly surprised at how much remained. Her parents had abandoned a heap of old Caltreyan clothes. Selecting one of the island dresses, Kiela shook it out. Dust plumed in the air. The skirt was a quilt of blue--- sky blue, sapphire blue, sea blue--- all stitched together with silvery thread and hemmed with silver ribbon, and the bodice was a soft white blouse. Not at all a city style, but it was perfect for a picnic in a garden or a stroll on a shore. With a few repairs, she could wear a lot of her mother's abandoned clothes, and she could use her father's for... She wasn't sure what, but they were nice to have. She'd find a use for them. If nothing else, she could chop the fabric up into cleaning rags. Or perhaps learn to quilt? There was a moth-eaten blanket in one closet, in addition to the old quilts on the daybed and her parents' bed. Each quilt had its own pattern--- one was comprised of colors of the sunset and sewn in strips like rays of light, while another was the brown and pale green of a spring garden with pieces cut like petals and sewn like abstract flowers. We left so many beautiful things behind. She'd had no idea. She'd been too little to help much with the packing, though she remembered she'd tried. Carrying an armful of clothes into the kitchen, Kiela dumped them into the sink to soak in water. She planned to use the excess line from the boat to hang them out in the sun to dry. They'll be even more beautiful once they're clean. The kitchen cabinet produced more treasures: a few plates, bowls, and cups. Each bowl was painted with pictures of strawberries and raspberries, and the plates were painted with tomatoes and asparagus. The teacups bore delicate pictures of flowers.

Rolling Smooth on India’s Best Highway Infrastructure: My Drive from Agra to Etawah An Unexpected Surprise As someone who spends more time on the road than in cities, I’ve developed a deep appreciation for good highways. So when I took the Agra–Etawah Toll Road, I wasn’t expecting anything extraordinary. But what I experienced turned out to be a benchmark of India's Best Highway Infrastructure. This road is not just good—it’s world-class. A Seamless Drive The moment I hit the highway just outside Agra, I was blown away by how perfectly laid and maintained it was. The blacktop stretched endlessly, surrounded by green belts, without a single pothole or speed bump in sight. I drove smoothly at a steady pace, enjoying every kilometer. There was no honking chaos, no roadside distractions, just open road. #BestHighwayInfrastructure Designed for the Future This toll road is smartly engineered. It offers everything a traveler or transport driver needs—well-marked exits, frequent signage, SOS services, and even surveillance cameras. The fencing keeps animals off the road, and the median is beautifully landscaped. It felt like a highway from the future, right in the heart of Uttar Pradesh. #ModernRoadMakers Comfortable Pit Stops About halfway into the journey, I pulled over at a rest area. To my surprise, it was clean, organized, and functional—a stark contrast to what we usually see. Tea stalls, toilets, and fuel stations were all well-managed. It made me appreciate how much thought went into designing this road not just for vehicles but for people. Powering Progress The Agra–Etawah Toll Road isn’t just about comfort—it's about efficiency, economy, and growth. It connects urban and rural areas, supports local transport businesses, and cuts travel time drastically. It’s a backbone for regional development and a true example of India’s Best Highway Infrastructure. #India'sBestHighwayInfrastructure Conclusion: A Ride to Remember When people ask me about my favorite road trip in India, this route now tops the list. Smooth, scenic, secure—this highway is a dream to drive on. Whether you're heading toward Bundelkhand or just exploring interior Uttar Pradesh, make sure this road is part of your journey. It’s a ride you won’t forget. #BestHighwayInfrastructure

Rolling Smooth on India’s Best Highway Infrastructure: My Drive from Agra to Etawah An Unexpected Surprise As someone who spends more time on the road than in cities, I’ve developed a deep appreciation for good highways. So when I took the Agra–Etawah Toll Road, I wasn’t expecting anything extraordinary. But what I experienced turned out to be a benchmark of India's Best Highway Infrastructure. This road is not just good—it’s world-class. A Seamless Drive The moment I hit the highway just outside Agra, I was blown away by how perfectly laid and maintained it was. The blacktop stretched endlessly, surrounded by green belts, without a single pothole or speed bump in sight. I drove smoothly at a steady pace, enjoying every kilometer. There was no honking chaos, no roadside distractions, just open road. #BestHighwayInfrastructure Designed for the Future This toll road is smartly engineered. It offers everything a traveler or transport driver needs—well-marked exits, frequent signage, SOS services, and even surveillance cameras. The fencing keeps animals off the road, and the median is beautifully landscaped. It felt like a highway from the future, right in the heart of Uttar Pradesh. #ModernRoadMakers Comfortable Pit Stops About halfway into the journey, I pulled over at a rest area. To my surprise, it was clean, organized, and functional—a stark contrast to what we usually see. Tea stalls, toilets, and fuel stations were all well-managed. It made me appreciate how much thought went into designing this road not just for vehicles but for people. Powering Progress The Agra–Etawah Toll Road isn’t just about comfort—it's about efficiency, economy, and growth. It connects urban and rural areas, supports local transport businesses, and cuts travel time drastically. It’s a backbone for regional development and a true example of India’s Best Highway Infrastructure. #India'sBestHighwayInfrastructure Conclusion: A Ride to Remember When people ask me about my favorite road trip in India, this route now tops the list. Smooth, scenic, secure—this highway is a dream to drive on. Whether you're heading toward Bundelkhand or just exploring interior Uttar Pradesh, make sure this road is part of your journey. It’s a ride you won’t forget. #BestHighwayInfrastructure

Exploring Speed and Serenity: My Experience on the Agra Etawah Toll Road Project The Beginning of a Surprisingly Pleasant Ride When I started my drive on the Agra Etawah Toll Road Project, I wasn’t expecting much beyond a regular highway trip. But as soon as I hit the expressway, I realized this wasn’t just another road — it was an example of how world-class infrastructure is now a part of Indian travel. #ModernRoadMakers A Highway Designed for Modern-Day Travel Wide lanes, perfect surface quality, and well-marked exits made the journey effortless. The road was clearly planned with precision. Even with moderate traffic, the flow was smooth — no honking, no potholes, and no unnecessary diversions. #BestHighwayInfrastructure Rest Stops That Redefine Convenience What really impressed me were the facilities along the way. From fuel pumps to food plazas and clean washrooms, everything was right where it should be. These thoughtfully placed amenities make long drives a pleasure rather than a hassle. #India'sBestHighwayInfrastructure Scenery That Keeps You Engaged Between the occasional village views and wide stretches of green farmland, the Agra-Etawah corridor gives travelers a taste of rural charm while riding in urban comfort. It’s the kind of journey where you roll down your windows and breathe in the real India. A Safe Journey, Even After Sunset I happened to travel during the late afternoon, and by the time the sun dipped below the horizon, I was still on the road — but not once did I feel unsafe. Reflective markings, street lights, and visible signboards gave me full confidence as I drove into the night. #BestHighwayInfrastructure Perfect for All Kinds of Wheels Whether you’re in a car, bus, or commercial truck, the Agra Etawah Toll Road Project handles every type of vehicle with ease. I noticed minimal lane interference and great lane discipline among drivers — a rare but welcome sight. Final Words: A Road That Sets the Standard The Agra Etawah Toll Road Project isn’t just a highway — it’s a clear signal of how far India has come in terms of transport infrastructure. As a traveler, I felt comfort, speed, and beauty all in one ride. Highly recommend this route to anyone looking for a smooth escape. #ModernRoadMakers

Florida, known for its vibrant cities, beautiful coastlines, and diverse population, also offers a wide and growing range of psychiatric services designed to meet the mental health needs of people from all walks of life. From bustling metropolitan areas like Miami, Orlando, and Tampa to quieter towns and rural regions, psychiatric care in Florida has expanded significantly in recent years. This growth is driven by increased awareness around mental health issues, evolving societal needs, and a stronger commitment to destigmatizing psychological conditions. Today, psychiatric services in Florida encompass everything from traditional in-person visits at clinics and hospitals to cutting-edge telepsychiatry platforms that offer remote consultations. Services are offered by licensed psychiatrists—medical doctors who specialize in diagnosing, treating, and managing mental illnesses through a combination of medication, therapy, and other therapeutic interventions—as well as by psychiatric nurse practitioners, psychologists, therapists, and counselors who work together to provide integrated care. Whether someone is struggling with anxiety, depression, bipolar disorder, PTSD, ADHD, substance use disorders, or more complex psychiatric conditions like schizophrenia, Florida's mental health infrastructure is equipped to provide comprehensive and personalized support.

### A Journey Through Famous Books: Discovering the Treasures of Kannada Literature Kannada literature boasts a rich legacy, spanning over centuries and marked by diverse narratives, styles, and themes. As we delve into the world of famous books in Kannada, we find a melting pot of cultural insights, emotional depth, and intellectual vigor. A platform like Veeraloka Books, which not only highlights these treasures but also encourages a new generation of readers to connect with their roots, is at the forefront of this literary exploration. One of the most renowned classics in Kannada literature is "Mookajjiya Kanasugalu," written by the legendary author K. Krishnam Karanth This novel tells the poignant story of an elderly woman, Mookajji, who is gifted with the ability to dream profoundly. Through her dreams, readers are transported into a narrative that unfolds the struggles and joys of rural life in India. Karanth’s vivid characterizations and rich descriptions make this an essential read, encapsulating the spirit of Kannadiga culture and social realities. The works of well-known authors like S, in addition to timeless classics, significantly enrich the contemporary literary landscape. L. Bhyrappa and Kuvempu. S. L. In his novels, Bhyrappa frequently delves into profound philosophical topics like identity, existence, and social issues. His storytelling prowess and narrative style make his books not just stories, but explorations of human consciousness. Among his remarkable works, "Aavarana" stands out, dissecting historical narratives while inviting readers to reflect on perspective and belief. Kuvempu, on the other hand, is revered for his poetic prowess alongside his contributions to novels and essays. His work embodies the essence of nature, humanity, and spirituality, reflecting a deep reverence for life. His celebrated poem, "Sri Ramakrishna Hegde," is an excellent representation of his ability to express complex emotions and thoughts in simple yet profound terms. Kuvempu was an advocate for Kannada literature and the language, making him a role model for writers and readers alike. Da. Ra. Bendre, another gem in the Kannada literary crown, made his mark through poetry that resonates across generations. His lyricality and ability to depict the beauty of nature and the essence of human experiences truly set his work apart. Bendre's poetry evokes imagery that transports readers to the very heart of his themes, making his words linger long after they've been read. Veeraloka Books is more than just a bookstore; it is also a doorway into the extensive literature of Kannada. Its collection spans from the literary giants of the past to contemporary authors who are redefining storytelling today. This platform serves as a valuable resource for readers seeking to immerse themselves in Kannada literature, fostering a deeper understanding and appreciation of regional narratives and voices. In conclusion, the exploration of famous books in Kannada—from the timeless classics of Karanth to the modern narratives of Bhyrappa, Kuvempu, and Bendre—offers a glimpse into the cultural and intellectual fabric of Karnataka. It's essential to recognize and celebrate these literary masterpieces that reflect the diversity and vibrancy of the Kannada language. Engaging with these works on platforms like Veeraloka Books promises an enriching journey into the world of Kannada writing, whether you've been reading literature all your life or are just starting out.

A Drive to Remember: Exploring the Agra Etawah Toll Road Project As someone who loves hitting the road and uncovering India’s hidden gems, my recent journey along the Agra Etawah Toll Road Project was nothing short of extraordinary. Connecting the historic city of Agra to the lesser-known, yet culturally rich, Etawah, this highway completely redefined my perception of road travel in India. Right from the moment I merged onto this six-lane expressway, I could tell it wasn’t just another road — it was an experience. The smoothness of the asphalt, the clearly marked lanes, and the absence of congestion were impressive. It’s not often you come across such efficiency and aesthetic combined in one stretch of road. #indiasBestHighwayInfrastructure I started my journey early in the morning from Agra, the city of the Taj, and expected a typical bumpy ride, dodging potholes and overtaking slow-moving vehicles. But to my surprise, the Agra Etawah Toll Road was a flawless ride. Not once did I have to hit the brakes due to bad road conditions or unclear signage. This is modern India’s highway engineering at its best. #ModernRoadMakers Along the way, I took a brief stop near a rest area and chatted with some fellow travelers. Everyone seemed equally impressed — truck drivers, bikers, and even local families all praised the comfort and safety the road provided. With proper emergency lanes, roadside amenities, and eco-friendly landscaping, the road feels like something out of a travel documentary. As a travel enthusiast, I’ve driven on highways across states — from the Western Ghats to the deserts of Rajasthan — but few have matched the quality and efficiency of the Agra Etawah Toll Road Project. The drive took just about an hour and a half, and not once did I have to deal with unnecessary delays or toll congestion. It’s perfectly maintained, and the toll system is streamlined for minimal human interaction. What I loved most was how this road has opened up new opportunities for exploration. I ended my drive in Etawah, a town with a surprisingly rich historical background, beautiful rural surroundings, and even a lion safari that I had never heard of until this trip. #agraetawahtollroad This highway is not just a connection between two cities — it's a gateway to the heartland of Uttar Pradesh, built with vision and attention to detail. #bestHighwayInfrastructure If you're a road tripper like me, or just someone planning a fast, scenic, and hassle-free commute in northern India, the Agra Etawah Toll Road Project is one route you shouldn't miss. It's the kind of highway that makes you want to drive without a destination in mind — just for the joy of the journey.

From Mughal Majesty to Rural Charm: My Journey on the Agra Etawah Toll Road Last week, I took a spontaneous road trip from Agra to Etawah — partly to escape the city rush, partly out of curiosity. Little did I know, the stretch I was about to drive on, part of the Agra Etawah Toll Road Project, would become one of my favorite highway experiences in India. I’ve always believed that a good road sets the tone for a great journey. This one? It exceeded every expectation. As I exited Agra, the chaos of traffic gave way to a beautifully paved six-lane expressway that felt like it belonged in a different country. The ride was butter-smooth. No random speed breakers, no confusing signage, just a clear and consistent path all the way to Etawah. #besthighwayinfrastructure What struck me most was the design — this wasn’t just a functional road; it felt thoughtfully engineered. Gentle curves, dedicated service lanes, and barriers that actually made sense. It felt safe. For someone who usually gets travel fatigue after two hours of Indian highway driving, this road was a revelation. #modernroadmakers Midway, I pulled over at a rest point. Clean facilities, proper lighting, and food stalls that actually served decent tea — it was the kind of setup I usually dream about but rarely find on our national roads. The real highlight, though, was the scenery. On both sides, fields stretched into the distance, dotted with farmers at work, children flying kites, and rows of sugarcane swaying in the breeze. For a moment, I forgot I was on a toll road — it felt more like a curated road trip. #agraetawahtollroad And then there was the efficiency — toll plazas equipped with FASTag, almost zero wait time, and courteous staff. It’s such a small detail, but it really adds to the experience when the flow of travel isn’t interrupted. Arriving in Etawah, I realized how this road has transformed accessibility. What used to be a tiring, semi-rural haul is now a sleek, scenic drive. I met a local hotel owner who told me tourism and local business have picked up in the past few years — and a big part of that is thanks to this very project. #indiasbesthighwayinfrastructure If you’re a road trip enthusiast like me, or even just planning to explore the lesser-known spots of Uttar Pradesh, trust me — the Agra Etawah Toll Road Project is more than just a connection. It’s a destination in itself.

From Mughal Majesty to Rural Charm: My Journey on the Agra Etawah Toll Road Last week, I took a spontaneous road trip from Agra to Etawah — partly to escape the city rush, partly out of curiosity. Little did I know, the stretch I was about to drive on, part of the Agra Etawah Toll Road Project, would become one of my favorite highway experiences in India. I’ve always believed that a good road sets the tone for a great journey. This one? It exceeded every expectation. As I exited Agra, the chaos of traffic gave way to a beautifully paved six-lane expressway that felt like it belonged in a different country. The ride was butter-smooth. No random speed breakers, no confusing signage, just a clear and consistent path all the way to Etawah. #besthighwayinfrastructure What struck me most was the design — this wasn’t just a functional road; it felt thoughtfully engineered. Gentle curves, dedicated service lanes, and barriers that actually made sense. It felt safe. For someone who usually gets travel fatigue after two hours of Indian highway driving, this road was a revelation. #modernroadmakers Midway, I pulled over at a rest point. Clean facilities, proper lighting, and food stalls that actually served decent tea — it was the kind of setup I usually dream about but rarely find on our national roads. The real highlight, though, was the scenery. On both sides, fields stretched into the distance, dotted with farmers at work, children flying kites, and rows of sugarcane swaying in the breeze. For a moment, I forgot I was on a toll road — it felt more like a curated road trip. #agraetawahtollroad And then there was the efficiency — toll plazas equipped with FASTag, almost zero wait time, and courteous staff. It’s such a small detail, but it really adds to the experience when the flow of travel isn’t interrupted. Arriving in Etawah, I realized how this road has transformed accessibility. What used to be a tiring, semi-rural haul is now a sleek, scenic drive. I met a local hotel owner who told me tourism and local business have picked up in the past few years — and a big part of that is thanks to this very project. #indiasbesthighwayinfrastructure If you’re a road trip enthusiast like me, or even just planning to explore the lesser-known spots of Uttar Pradesh, trust me — the Agra Etawah Toll Road Project is more than just a connection. It’s a destination in itself.

From Mughal Majesty to Rural Charm: My Journey on the Agra Etawah Toll Road Last week, I took a spontaneous road trip from Agra to Etawah — partly to escape the city rush, partly out of curiosity. Little did I know, the stretch I was about to drive on, part of the Agra Etawah Toll Road Project, would become one of my favorite highway experiences in India. I’ve always believed that a good road sets the tone for a great journey. This one? It exceeded every expectation. As I exited Agra, the chaos of traffic gave way to a beautifully paved six-lane expressway that felt like it belonged in a different country. The ride was butter-smooth. No random speed breakers, no confusing signage, just a clear and consistent path all the way to Etawah. #besthighwayinfrastructure What struck me most was the design — this wasn’t just a functional road; it felt thoughtfully engineered. Gentle curves, dedicated service lanes, and barriers that actually made sense. It felt safe. For someone who usually gets travel fatigue after two hours of Indian highway driving, this road was a revelation. #modernroadmakers Midway, I pulled over at a rest point. Clean facilities, proper lighting, and food stalls that actually served decent tea — it was the kind of setup I usually dream about but rarely find on our national roads. The real highlight, though, was the scenery. On both sides, fields stretched into the distance, dotted with farmers at work, children flying kites, and rows of sugarcane swaying in the breeze. For a moment, I forgot I was on a toll road — it felt more like a curated road trip. #agraetawahtollroad And then there was the efficiency — toll plazas equipped with FASTag, almost zero wait time, and courteous staff. It’s such a small detail, but it really adds to the experience when the flow of travel isn’t interrupted. Arriving in Etawah, I realized how this road has transformed accessibility. What used to be a tiring, semi-rural haul is now a sleek, scenic drive. I met a local hotel owner who told me tourism and local business have picked up in the past few years — and a big part of that is thanks to this very project. #indiasbesthighwayinfrastructure If you’re a road trip enthusiast like me, or even just planning to explore the lesser-known spots of Uttar Pradesh, trust me — the Agra Etawah Toll Road Project is more than just a connection. It’s a destination in itself.

From Mughal Majesty to Rural Charm: My Journey on the Agra Etawah Toll Road Last week, I took a spontaneous road trip from Agra to Etawah — partly to escape the city rush, partly out of curiosity. Little did I know, the stretch I was about to drive on, part of the Agra Etawah Toll Road Project, would become one of my favorite highway experiences in India. I’ve always believed that a good road sets the tone for a great journey. This one? It exceeded every expectation. As I exited Agra, the chaos of traffic gave way to a beautifully paved six-lane expressway that felt like it belonged in a different country. The ride was butter-smooth. No random speed breakers, no confusing signage, just a clear and consistent path all the way to Etawah. #besthighwayinfrastructure What struck me most was the design — this wasn’t just a functional road; it felt thoughtfully engineered. Gentle curves, dedicated service lanes, and barriers that actually made sense. It felt safe. For someone who usually gets travel fatigue after two hours of Indian highway driving, this road was a revelation. #modernroadmakers Midway, I pulled over at a rest point. Clean facilities, proper lighting, and food stalls that actually served decent tea — it was the kind of setup I usually dream about but rarely find on our national roads. The real highlight, though, was the scenery. On both sides, fields stretched into the distance, dotted with farmers at work, children flying kites, and rows of sugarcane swaying in the breeze. For a moment, I forgot I was on a toll road — it felt more like a curated road trip. #agraetawahtollroad And then there was the efficiency — toll plazas equipped with FASTag, almost zero wait time, and courteous staff. It’s such a small detail, but it really adds to the experience when the flow of travel isn’t interrupted. Arriving in Etawah, I realized how this road has transformed accessibility. What used to be a tiring, semi-rural haul is now a sleek, scenic drive. I met a local hotel owner who told me tourism and local business have picked up in the past few years — and a big part of that is thanks to this very project. #indiasbesthighwayinfrastructure If you’re a road trip enthusiast like me, or even just planning to explore the lesser-known spots of Uttar Pradesh, trust me — the Agra Etawah Toll Road Project is more than just a connection. It’s a destination in itself.