As planting season gets underway, I find myself with an abundance of free time. While the Dairy Man spends every waking hour tilling and planting, I am getting (re)used to being alone.
This alone time often falls victim to things like naps, Facebooking, and Mad Men marathons, but I’ve been trying to spend more time taking long walks with the pups. Without any reason to rush home (i.e. no one is waiting for dinner), we’re free to journey further and further from the dairy.
Out here, there are no sidewalks.
There is no pavement.
We leave the dairy behind and set out into the deep country.
Jersey and I wander down dirt roads and disappear into an overhanging canopy of trees.
Tire tracks let us know that others have traveled the road before, but we don’t see a soul.
I would enjoy the walks more with company. Having the sturdy Dairy Man by my side would certainly dispel the occasional “I’m going to get murdered” feeling that comes from such rural isolation. But the wilderness is peaceful. I am alone with my pup, my thoughts, and the rustling of a gentle breeze through the leaves.
The silence is deafening. My soul craves it. Somehow these rolling hills and the wafting scent of manure stun me. I live in a beautiful place.
Things are only going to get crazier this spring + summer + fall, but I’m no longer a complete novice to this country life. The Dairy Man will get in when he gets in; we might eat tacos at 9:45 p.m. or Subway on the side of the road; I will have to relearn how to be alone. But I can’t help but feel so very blessed.
And you can’t beat the view.