Those two little words mean a lot to me.
What do you think of when you read them? A magazine? An existence? A way of living?
Those words encompass a lot of my life in one way or another. I've lived most of my life in the country. I'd rather be in the country than in town, frankly, although I certainly love to visit towns and cities worldwide. I'm delighted to say that some of my work is now featured in the gloriously English weekly magazine, Country Life, too.
Whichever current path in life I seem to be exploring, I always end up back on track doing something to do with the aforementioned Country Life; whether it's fine dining, travel, a specific interview or a new pitch for a magazine piece, all roads lead back to nature, wildlife and the bounty of the land.
As I write, I can hear the burr of a tractor discing the field behind my office. Last week it was a field of corn, then it was harvested and golden bushels of straw picked, baled and carted. Now seagulls wheel lazily behind the tractor - I can hear them too - and it's all so redolent of autumn, with that slight tinge of melancholy for things passed and things yet to come.
It's a Country Life alright, with jackdaws in the chimney pot, grumpy gamekeeper in the pub, cricket on the green and misty, moisty morning dog walks. I wouldn't have it any other way.