One of the sights that takes my breath away is that of a tiny distant cottage, with a wisp of blue smoke slowly rising from a substantial chimney (it has to be 'substantial').
In the case above, it happens to be Chez Moi, but it could be anybody's; it always has the same effect.
The sight and aroma of woodsmoke, and the thought of a cosy rustic interior; nothing conjurs up a more poignant picture of true country life.
Yesterday I spent most of the day wandering around HUGE shops in Toulouse as Lady M's 'Beast of Burden' (Eeeeeeek). Boy was I glad to get home to the peace and quiet of the cottage. I lit the fire, poured myself a glass of red, and sat outside listening to silence, as the heat of the day slowly faded away.
It was just so good to feel like a country bumpkin again; I've done my time in cities.