(Jones, MI) Pictured on your left is a small private lake nestled on 95 acres in rural western Michigan, south of Kalamazoo. Standing on the lake's edge I saw great blue herons and geese, busy doing whatever it is that waterfowl do when the sun rises.
It is peaceful moments like this that tempt me to contact a real estate broker and move out of the city, chucking the aggravations of traffic, smog, and noise in favor of the tranquility of life in the country.
Of course, as someone who has lived virtually his entire life in busy cities, it is easy for me to wax poetic about the natural beauty that can be found in abundance in places like western Michigan. I get positively giddy when I see Mallard ducks in a city park, so I am hardly one to draw upon a long history of communing with nature.
Still, there is something primordial and visceral about watching the flight of a heron, or seeing a doe and her fawns crossing the road in front of you. Without slipping into a naïve Romanticist nature-worship, one gets a sense of the eternal when watching the sun rise on an isolated lake.