. . . We're a little bit city, a little bit country
One of the things I love the most about where I live is that it's such an eclectic mix of rural and urban. We have a nice outlet mall on the west side of the freeway (right near the Tulalip Casino) and more Starbucks than any town could ever need, but I also sometimes have to stop at the four-way intersection at the bottom of Lauck Road while a farmer moseys through on his tractor. My absolute favorite store in Marysville is the Farm Co-op, where you can pick up bunny food or a new horse saddle or just a free bag of popcorn. In April, they host "Chick Days," where several long galvanized steel bins hold brand-new baby chicks warming themselves under heat lamps. I don't know another town with such opposing (and charming) identies.
There's nothing urban about my neighborhood, though. Eleven of us live along this potholed gravel road, and my husband and I are the very last. By the time you get all the way back to my house, you've already experienced three minutes of "Did I miss a turn somewhere?" anxiety. But the plus side of that is the utter peace and quiet that surrounds our home. Except for the occasional noises that drift up our pasture from bikers, joggers and horses on the Centennial Trail below, the only other sounds are critter sounds: owls, eagles, squirrels, coyotes and our own two dogs.
And what I especially love about my little neighborhood is this: where else could I live where an escaped goat blocks my departure one day, and a doe and fawn the next?