Luxury

It now seems to me that the greatest luxury in life is that little time when the work is done and a degree of silence descends upon the house. At that moment one can find me sitting on the porch with a pipe, a beer and a book. The dog will be lying at my feet and the sheep will be chewing their cud, giving sounds of contentment from time to time, which will be answered in due course by the bellicose bleating of the neighboring goats. Then one can take in a deep breath of air, filled to the brim with the smells of grass, hay, livestock and good English tobacco, and if the breeze is just right the faint sweet smell of blossoming citrus will tickle that fortunate one's nose. One will be greeted with a nod to pull up an old camping chair, rest his bones and stare at the stars, unobscured by the city lights.