Moment of Zen: Country Boys

If you grew up in a place where there were more cows than people, you remember the kind—tight jeans that hugged just right, boots scuffed from work, and sun-kissed shoulders that spent more time bare than covered. They didn’t have gym bodies, but the kind that came from throwing hay bales, fixing fences, and long days working the fields, tending their crops beneath the hot Southern sun. On weekends they were up before dawn to hunt, out fishing by midday, and sipping beer from a bottle or a red Solo cup by nightfall. Some wore cowboy hats, though in Alabama it was more likely a baseball cap. They smelled like sweat, soap, and summer air. Some were rowdy, some were sweet, but all had that quiet confidence that could make your heart skip. They were good ol’ country boys—the kind who worked hard, laughed easy, and lingered in your memory long after you left home, and if you’re honest, one of them was probably your first crush.