After I have finished up the normal weekend chore stuff, I have about two more hours of daylight left. It’s not particularly nice out.
Still, somehow it seems like a good idea to take a walk.
Today is the first day we are not supposed to socialize with anyone outside of our own household. I don’t call a friend. Because that makes me equally sad and mad, I decide to go out completely alone.
I can’t help comparing the 40 degrees of today with the 70s from last Sunday… the bright sun from last week’s kayaking with the dreary, overcast skies of this afternoon… my solitary nature with the fun catch-up conversation with friends… I’m tired of having to worry about COVID, masks, stay-home orders and being safe. I want more hours of sun and the hopeful nature of summer.
Just as I am allowing myself to sink further into these negative comparisons, the air shifts and the smells change. Now the odor is distinctly recognizable: it’s dairy cows, grass hay, a bit of tractor exhaust and wet earth.
The Midwest dairy farmer’s daughter in me is instantly comforted. And then I laugh at myself, knowing how silly it would sound to almost everyone else, this idea that “dairy air” is a really positive, calming smell.
As I round the corner of the road, I smile at the cows, working their way from their pasture up on the hills down to the milking parlor below. It hits me that this is my silver lining for today. My heeding of some internal shove to get outside of my house has brought me outside of the negativity I was letting spiral in my own head. All it took was a few deep breaths.
