I didn’t mark the exact anniversary, but it’s been more than a year since we made the move from the “city” to the “country.” As such, it’s my kids’ second summer back in “the wild.”

Of course, the shutdown has given us more time than we wanted to really get acclimated to our new habitat. But, as I recently watched the boys doing a hatchet job on the lawn, as they first fought about mowing it, and then proceeded to cut, or not cut in this case, corners, I stopped to think about a few of the lessons that they’ve learned over the past year.

Driving the tractor has been a big one for the boys. Growing up on the farm, learning to drive the tractor was a rite of passage that was bigger than turning 16 and being able to drive a car. After all, once you’d mastered the gear stick and the clutch and the brake and the mower deck, and the “rabbit” and the “turtle,” driving a simple automatic vehicle was a breeze.

A few years ago, as we drove by one of the many corn fields in our area, G was stunned to look out the window and see one of his good friends driving a tractor across the field. The next time he saw him in person, he peppered him with questions and came home in awe that driving a tractor was something that kids his age could do.

It didn’t take much to get him up to speed, and he was quite excited about it. A on the other hand, realized that acquiring any type of skill related to heavy equipment could only mean more chores and work on his plate, and wasn’t quite so eager to learn. Although they’re both more than proficient at it now, G still considers himself the expert and is quick to critique any mistakes that he thinks A makes. The bickering has gotten to the point that I’ve asked the Wonderful Husband if a second tractor is in our future, just to make the fighting stop.

In addition to the tractor, they’ve become quite skilled at using things like weed-wackers, mauls, power washers and screwdrivers. It’s quite a luxury to have some small odd job pop up and be able to say, “boys, run and get a (insert tool needed here) and fix this for me,” and have it done right about half the time. Of course, the other half the time, I still have a bigger mess than I started with on my hands, but I still consider it progress.

Another delightful lesson they’ve learned is that we have critters in the country. Specifically, we have mice. And maybe a squirrel or two. And chipmunks. Lots of small critters that like to get into our stuff. G has had his pants scared off more than once as he moved a bag of chicken feed only to have an angry squirrel come flying out at him. Squirrel proofing his hen house has occupied quite a lot of his summer.

Taco Cat has proved to be an admirable mouser and has done a top-notch job of cleaning out the few unfortunate souls who dared attempt to take up residence in the house. She has also been more than generous in sharing her catch, frequently leaving little mouse parts scattered down the hallway. It’s always a delight when a barefooted child finds them in the morning. I’m almost sad that she’s decimated the population, because I really enjoyed saying things like “your pet, your mess, clean it up.”

Although my kids have struggled with the operation of light switches all their lives, leaving lights on in the country, especially in the evening, comes with the bonus of bugs. Add to this a penchant for not closing the screen door all the way, and oh, it’s just a delight to watch the wildlife come to call. G calls this his master plan to lure in moths to sell on the internet. Although he claims there is a market for them, he has yet to make a dime. I’ve offered to give him any savings we see on the electric bill instead, but that isn’t enough incentive. I also get to find out who is sneaking onto their electronic devices after they’re supposed to be in bed, because invariable, one of their new six-legged friends will land on their screen and a scream will be heard.

There have been many other lessons, like learning the constellations, and identifying the noises that we hear every night and every morning. In addition to the roosters, most of the forest wakes up at the crack of dawn, which means sleeping past sunrise can’t be done without some good ear plugs. They’ve learned how to hang wash on the clothesline and how to compost and save rain in a barrel.

I don’t know that my kids think of themselves as “farm kids” yet, and having been a “farm kid,” I know they have quite a few more rites of passage before they’ve really, truly had the farm experience, but I can say that they’ve become “country” kids.

The other week, the boys had to collect “specimens” from nature for some merit badges they were working on. In no time at all they had photographed and identified plants, birds, animals, bugs and even a few of our friendly reptiles. When the little snake that lives in the wall behind the pool startled me the other day, E reassured me that it was “just a little garter snake.”

It’s not so much about self-sufficiency, although I feel they’ve taken major strides in that department over the last year, it’s also about getting back to nature and the way life should be, but it’s a little more than that, too.

It’s being able to be out on the trail and notice a new tree or plant, and using their phones to look it up and identify it. On more than one occasion, I’ve seen them use new technology to solve an old problem, and to me, combining the best of the old with the best of the new has helped them create a really exciting world for themselves, and most of it is right in their own backyard.

Liz Pinkey is a contributing writer to the Times News. Her column appears weekly in our Saturday feature section.