06/13/2026
Sunday, June 14 is Rural Life Sunday
What does rural life mean to you?
For me, the first thing that comes to mind is the care, concern, and attention shown by everyone in a small town in the aftermath of Mother Nature's fury. As we have had our fair share of rain, wind, and even dust storms lately, the weather is at the forefront of most conversations. Relatives, friends and casual acquaintances, locally, provincially, and even, nationally, check in to make sure we are well.
That's rural life.
I can't imagine what it would be like living in a city the size of New York where you would know a limited amount of people and the rest of the population are just blurred faces scurrying from one point to another, possibly never leaving their neighborhood, never knowing the freedom and life experiences that exist just outside those city limits.
That's not the life I'd want to lead, it's completely void of the charm of rural life.
Also at the forefront of conversation is the tragic loss of the Brock family farm by Alameda. That family is in our thoughts and prayers. We can only imagine the overwhelming gratitude for physically surviving the storm, shrouded with the devastation for the loss they are experiencing after their property was destroyed by the tornado earlier this week. Very quickly, a Go Fund Me page was created for the Brock family to help them through the early stages of this tragedy. As of Friday morning, the total had quickly risen to 94% of the projected total and I'm sure it will meet and exceed the set amount very quickly.
That's rural life.
It's heartbreaking and at the same time eye opening for all of us. We tend to become complacent during these spring and summer storms, but the power of Mother Nature soon reminds us that she's in charge and she can alter our lives in a matter of minutes.
I'm guilty of enjoying a good thunderstorm, but this past week's weather events were unnerving, even for me. We headed to the basement twice for shelter after noticing what appeared to be an odd color and/or rotation in the clouds.
For most of my adult life, I've had a recurring dream of knowing there was a tornado approaching and not being able to locate and gather the kids and pets to move us all to the safety of the basement. In 2008 a devastating storm hit Carlyle, and low and behold, my dream played out in real life. I was frantically trying to get the pets and the kids gathered to head downstairs but by the time we were half way down, the storm had moved further to the east, but the damage in that short few minutes was more than we could have imagined. Within a month I realized my recurring dream had stopped. It has only resurfaced once since that 2008 storm. The mind is a curious thing. It seemed that it needed to experience first hand what the dreams were foretelling before they could be laid to rest...no pun intended.
Not unlike this past week, the morning after that 2008 evening storm was a symphony of buzzing chainsaws, while neighbors, family, friends and strangers, helped each other to clean up branches and fallen trees, remove debris, check roofs for damage, provide generators during the power outage, and just generally check in to make sure everyone was okay. In that 2008 storm, the west side of Carlyle was evacuated due to a potential gas leak. We opened our home to friends who were evacuated from the west side so they had somewhere safe to sleep, as did, I'm sure, most folks east of Main Street.
That's rural life.
Our small town was saddened when one of our local restaurants closed due to Jimmy, the owner, experiencing health issues. Thankfully his health has improved immensely and the business has been sold to new owners. A couple of our local folks have organized a "retirement / farewell / appreciation" afternoon for Jimmy and Betty to let them know how much they are adored, how much they will be missed, and how much they were appreciated in the community for, literally, decades.
That's rural life.
Shared church services uniting neighboring communities; the local coffee shops, restaurants and bars, where everybody knows your name and they bring your favourite drink before you even order it; fenceless properties where neighbours chat and intentionally disregard property lines when cutting grass or blowing snow; children playing road hockey and biking until dark; backyard barbeques and happy hour in someone's garage; Sunday drives on gravel roads; sunny, summer afternoons at the local pool or on the beach at the lake, chatting with people you've never met before, discovering you share a common interest or relative; helping a complete stranger change a tire or providing the number to the mechanic shop to get them back on the road, sometimes even offering your spare vehicle as an interim solution to their dilema; knowing the dog's name from next door and keeping a stock of his favourite treats handy just to spoil him when he wanders over for a visit.
That's rural life...and out here, "in the sticks", we couldn't imagine a better way to live.
