
Now that’s a loaded question at the moment!
But honestly, what I love most is the peace and quiet.
I live in a small village at the foot of a mountain. We’ve only got one pub (I rarely go there, lol), and not much else, which probably explains why life moves at its own slow pace here. The house is about 250 years old. It’s no showpiece, a bit creaky, always needing work, but it’s solid, and it’s home. The walls are full of memories, not all of them good, but they’re stitched into the place whether I like it or not.
The house is surrounded by green fields, and some mornings there’s a mist that just hangs there, soft and still, like the world is pressing pause. Other days the wind comes charging down the mountain, rattling the windows as if to say, don’t forget who’s in charge here.
I think what I really love is the solitude. The quiet here isn’t empty, it’s alive. Birds singing, hedgerows whispering, old floorboards grumbling at night. It’s the kind of quiet that lets your mind settle, that reminds you what really matters.
This old house, this little village, the mountain watching over it all, they’ve seen storms come and go, and they’ll see plenty more. But they’re still standing. And when I close my door at the end of the day, surrounded by fields and silence, I know I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.
Even if the only nightlife on offer is the single pub down the road, where I’ll probably still never show my face. 😂
Mae🧡

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