To get here, you drive about six miles out from the nearest town, passing a home or business with decreasing frequency. The pines are rather ubiquitous, and from this point on most homes are well off the highway (well, a farm and market road), sequestered away in their own neighborhood. Those that aren't are practically ranches.
There's 10 square acres, surrounded on the other three sides by trees. Though there are technically neighbors, it's easy enough to forget they exist (except in the winter; naked trees don't make such great cover). Three ponds, two barns, and a handsome brick house partially hidden by the makeshift earthen dike my father erected some years back when we realized just how often the water will raise precipitously high when there's not a drought. Though they can't be seen from the road, we also keep two modestly sized vegetable gardens - on the high ground, of course. A glorified natural drainage ditch runs across the property as well, and there's enough wooded area to provide some decent hiking trails.
Of course, as far as downsides go, the highway creates perpetual road noise, and it's always hot and humid here on the coastal plain. Summer sees the grass give up and die under the relentless onslaught of the daystar, and winter tends to be temperate. We're also just rural enough there's no cable services. Oh, and if it rains too much, a quarter of the property turns into a flood plain and half of it becomes a muddy slush - but that's infrequent (usually due to drought...)
Barring some catastrophe, I'll be in a college town before long. I'm not sure how I'll handle an urban environment, and though I've long shunned nature despite it being right off my patio all these years, I'm gonna miss being able to stroll through the field or through the thicket on a whim.