A Rural Life

I grew up on the plains of the "bread basket of the world", "the heartland", near the center of the North American continent. The region was considered "frontier", to be settled and farmed by Euro- Americans, in the early 1800's. Nebraska became a state in 1867. Virtually no unbroken land remains, although the open skies of Nebraska are breathtakingly beautiful.

Hokkaido, perhaps more similar to Alaska, could still be called "frontier". Many farming settlers arrived in the early 1900's, and more continue to move here in search of open space. Hokkaido became a full-fledged prefecture in 1947. Vast amounts of the island are untouched.

In applying for programs with which to move abroad, I hoped for a rural placement. After living in the dense city center of Portland for nearly eight years, I missed seeing the horizon. I wanted clean air, fresh water, local produce, places to hike, and outdoor adventure. I got all of what I wished for, and it has been a remarkable experience.

In Autumn my shelves were stocked with a bounty of fresh vegetables, both familiar and foreign. We hiked and explored.













In Winter the snow filled the ditches three meters deep. Crystalline ice sanctified the forest.


















Spring began with violent crashes of melting snow falling from my roof. Then the fields were planted, painstakingly by hand. Rice fields mirrored the volcanic mountains.













And, oh, Summer! The forests are exploding with green foliage, and sounding a cacophonous symphony of unseen creatures. Thunder crashes and sheets of rain threaten to push me from my bicycle. Flowers abound. Every weekend is filled with visiting friends, camping adventures, and promise.