It was raining hard yesterday morning. I hadn’t slept; I felt old and blue. Therefore I decided to drive to the big city to do a round of errands. I might as well accomplish something. I know from experience that I am almost always calmed by action.
As it happened, half my errands were not productive. Items were out of stock and a prize I’d found on Craigslist would not work for me. Nevertheless, driving home at the end of the day with a new pressure washer on sale (for the inevitable house-painting project) plus enormous packages of toilet paper and paper towels, I was indeed calmer. The rain had stopped. Onward!
Every night I move the temporary fence down the back field to give the cows access to new grass. (I should be mowing behind them, to knock down the weeds before they go to seed, but I haven’t yet had time to start this.) Usually as I drag the fence to its new position, black flies are swarming me, singing in my ears and biting my neck, face, and hands. No matter how hot it is, I wear a sweatshirt with the hood up.
Last night as I was moving fence through the wet grass and weeds, fog rolled in. It was cool and damp and very pretty.
There were no bugs. Watching the fog creep over the field as the birds flew home at dusk, my heart lifted with joy. I know this is irrational. (“Yes, doctor, earlier I had been rather depressed but then a fog appeared!”)
I turned out the cows. I’m aware I haven’t told you yet about Flora’s 2019 calving. I’ll try to soon. That’s her little heifer calf beside her.
As I cooked dinner I tried to explain to Lucy my happiness over the fog. She took this photo from the living room with her zoom lens.
Happy cows, happy me.