It just feels like home

We got a nice slow rain this evening. There was a thunderstorm to the south, but it passed through without making our rural lights flicker. Jilda and I sat in silence on the screen porch and listened for a long while to the rain on the roof.
When the clouds moved off to the east, I stepped down to the garden fence and watched the sun make its final decent. The sky to the west looked as if I were viewing it through a bottle of peach Nehi. They don't make paint that color and a photograph always comes up short when trying to capture the subtle coloration of a setting sun.
I stood there for a long while, soaking it all in.
I'm guessing the rain brought out the mosquito's because bats were in a feeding frenzy, swooping and darting across the evening sky.
Through the years, we've had several opportunities to sell our little farm and move into the city. When my career was higher on my priority list, I must say, I considered moving in closer. But I could never bring myself to sell this place.
There are those who would say - what on earth do you see in THIS place - it's eleven miles to the closest grocery store and the closest thing to nightlife is the bats I mentioned above!  So what could I say? My only explanation is, it feels like home.
I believe if those same people could have stood with me tonight at the garden fence and witnessed the light-show the setting sun put on for me, I think they would understand what I see in this place.