Crisp snowy mornings and farmhouses beside country roads are a few of my favorite things. Mental clarity becomes a perfectly attainable goal when there are fields of horses and cattle as far as the eye can see. Within the heart of Virginia’s richest farmland, my soul awakened with an inner cadence of contentment.
Nestled between the foothills of the eastern face of the Ridge-and-Valley Appalachians and Harrisonburg, Clover Hill is home to a large population of old order Mennonite farmers. The roads are dotted with horse manure and lined with white farmhouses, dairy barns, and silos. My friend, Erin, and her family live in one of those charming houses (pictured at the start of the post) with a broad stone chimney and screened front porch. Katy and I sat at Erin’s kitchen table with children buzzing about, the distant mooing of a bored dairy cow, and the chipper bark of a beagle puppy named Little Anne.
The rest of the time, Katy and I sat around in the middle of Erin and John’s spacious country kitchen. We laughed, shared photos, and told stories as the best of friends tend to do when visiting one another.