April 16, 2024
The Big Dipper
The day started at 4 AM. My wife and I woke up feeling rested and ready for the day. This morning, my wife would leave for Durham for the week, staying at a small bed-and-breakfast. It was test week and she would come back home Friday evening after her exam. As we sipped our coffees, we talked about our plans for the week. It was never fun seeing my wife leave, but we were used to it and I knew the week would pass quickly. When she was ready, I walked her to her car, kissed her, and said goodbye. Betraying the melancholy mood was the sweet floral scent of spring flowers in the air.
Work was busy, but productive. During my lunch break, I went outside to pick up the dog poop from the backyard and gathered the trash from the house. I made the short drive to the trash service center to drop it off before heading into Bailey to buy some food from the Piggly Wiggly. There I picked up some ribeyes and a rack of pork spare ribs for the smoker. I ran a quick errand into town before heading back to the house. Before turning down the dirt road, I stopped to check the mail, sorted through it, and then placed all the letters I received in their proper mailboxes. After two years here, I had learned that delivery services, even the post office, delivered items to the wrong address just as often as the right one.
When I got home, it felt good to park my SUV in its place. I knew I would be in for the night, which felt settling. I ate a quick lunch and then got back to work. The day was moderately busy, but passed by quickly.
After work, I disconnected the back gate, swinging the fence open wide enough to fit the riding mower through it. The grass in the backyard was getting long. We liked to keep it short, so I picked up the dog toys and mowed the lawn. A freshly cut lawn looked nice, kept the insects away, and made it easier to spot dog poop. I was pleased with how the backyard looked, so I also mowed a large section of grass just in front of the house. While mowing, I realized tonight was the monthly meeting for the Wilson Camera Club. With my wife gone, I had completely spaced it. Although staying home sounded good, I lamented missing their interesting presentations.
While putting away the mower in the barn, I saw hundreds of small white flowers growing in the pasture. They were wildflowers, but they gave off an amazing floral scent. This was what I smelled this morning when my wife left. It was that time of year. In a few weeks, the mimosa trees would bloom and honeysuckle would show up all around. I reminisced about this time last year. For a week, the entire property smelled like someone had sprayed fancy French perfume all around. The aroma was both pleasant and potent. It was intoxicating.
After mowing, I grabbed my camera and planned to make the trek through the forest to Beaver Tooth Rock. Dusk had settled, but there was still enough light to shoot a few photos if I ran into any wildlife. I entered the trailhead that lead into the pine grove, never making it into the old woodland where I had planned to go. On the east side of the grove, I was looking at my ground blind, still turned upside down, when I spotted two deer in an empty field. Last week, a local farmer came by and placed a long line of yellow caution tape across the field, marking the area that needed to be tilled. The field would soon have crops planted in it. The two deer were near the tape, smelling it occasionally as they fed.
I crouched low on the ground, behind the cover of a large pine trunk. The deer sauntered and fed, never detecting me. I shot photographs and watch them for about forty minutes. Two other deer showed up in the field while they all enjoyed a lazy meal. It surprised me that the deer never detected my scent. After getting eaten by mosquitoes last night, I had sprayed a healthy amount of bug repellent all over me. I was sure the powerful odor would have given away my location, but the deer never looked my way. Maybe the spray’s scent masked my human smell. The deer likely detected the repellent but did not associate it with me.
After taking several photographs, I said a quiet thank you and goodbye to the herd. Then, I made my way back to the house as quietly as possible so I would not disturb them. The dogs were excited to see me and knew it was evening time. Time to cut up, play, and have doggy dinners. I cut some wood and started a fire in the Solo Stove on the deck. I also turned on the Traeger grill and gave it time to heat. Once I was inside, I washed some Kagayaki short grained rice and placed it in the rice cooker. Then I sat outside and enjoyed the sight of the freshly mowed backyard while listening to some music.
After relaxing for a half hour, I threw a tenderized and salted ribeye onto the grill and cooked it for eight minutes on each side. I forgot how the grill got hotter in the spring when it wasn’t twenty something degrees outside. The grill made beautiful marks on the meat, and the fat on the edge of the steak charred perfectly. Dinner was amazing, and I swore it was the best steak I had ever eaten, after which I laughed, knowing I said that same thing after every steak I ate.
I threw a few more logs on the fire and sat outside, looking up at the stars. The Big Dipper was right in front of me and I remembered when I first found the constellation as a small child. Back then, I had no way of comprehending the vastness of what I was seeing. As an adult, I understood the expanse was so great that my mind was incapable of imagining everything in its proper context. But no matter how inexplicably or incomprehensibly vast, I was a part of it all, proof that our own depth was equally unimaginable and elusive.