As an antidote to a bit of a downer blog week, yesterday morning was magical here on the farm. A thick fog surrounded the house as a weak sun tried to fight its way through. It made for a gorgeous scene in every direction, and while out with the dog early I found the hayfield full of magnificent spider webs all pearled up with dew.
Of course no sooner had I snapped this picture than a morning-exuberant puppy—yes, that’s him in the background—tore through the hay, rendering that masterpiece into this:
But it was beautiful while it lasted.
Which calls my attention to one of the most unanticipated benefits I’ve received from raising a dog here on the farm. He’s forced me outside during times when I wouldn’t normally have left the house. I remember last winter, when he was a brand-new puppy getting me out of bed for a middle of the night pee break, we stood in the middle of a snowy, frosty-crunchy field as shooting stars whizzed overhead. And even now, each morning we walk the property after his breakfast, checking on this tree and that flower and making note of all the changes that happened over night. It keeps both of us grounded and deeply in tune with the land we live on. It’s one of the best parts of my day, and a totally unexpected joy.