I started this blog on mephistos.com sometime late last fall. I had been doing a bit of blogging off and on another site, as well as the original post that was initially completed on the wordpress.com hosted version of what eventually became the basis of this blog.
Anyway it occurred to me last night when I was walking through a park near to my new residence with Bitzer on our nightly walk for exercise and some vain attempt to get in shape, look good, and live forever that I had been blogging for a total of just about one year now. It further struck me that one of the first blog notes I had ever written, maybe the second or third one was about a day that I took Jack, the horse for a trail ride just about this time of year. It was reinforced in my mind by having walked beneath a walnut tree and finding the green hard husk that contains the shell and eventually the nut itself. I of course had to pause and pick up the nut, as that faintly citrus smell mingled with the unique smell that makes it a walnut, is somehow one of my favorite fragrances in the world.
I am sure, somewhere deep down inside my head, or maybe it is my soul, it is because I associate that smell so much with fall and my childhood years and such as that. After all, the fall season, just after the harvest, when the leaves start to turn, still warmth to found in the days beneath the sun, but crisp, cool air in the mornings – well before I get lost in the thought, it has always been my favorite time of year. And of course who can forget the number of times we picked up walnuts during our youth to haul to the buyer. Still just a bit early for that, but recall the black stains on your hand from the few that had fallen early, such as the one I found yesterday already on the ground, put in empty feed sacks from throughout the year. The heap of hulls, that were decaying and giving off full aromas, that would later be put on the operators corn field, and the small little bag that contained the hulled nuts, never seeming to come up with enough pounds given the huge mass that we brought in with us, it is all such a wonderful flash of memories.
Makes me think about all the major changes that have taken place in my life in the last year since that point. Really the wrapping up and ending of one long-term relationship. The dissolution of that coinciding with a reduction in farm animals and even the number of horses greatly being reduced, also coinciding with the eventual dispersal of the farm itself. A move a suburb, that not only seemed to go against my grain, but certainly did not sit will with Bitzer either. A second move and now, instead of regularly getting out and taking a trail ride, I end up walking down the sidewalk and through the park, not that I do not still enjoy taking Jack for a ride, just a lot harder to do right now on a regular basis. Some other things in there that I am purposefully not mentioning, but still a lot of changes that make me reflective about where I have been and where I am and where I am heading to yet.
As it is not to be found any place around very easily, I thought I would post that little blurb of a few thoughts from a ride that occurred last September 1st. So, without further muddying of the reflection pool by my thoughts, here it is:
Took Jack out for a ride. Jack is one of my horses and his full name is Mad Jack Jouette – google it sometime – but the name fits his personality well. We went up the road to a historic village that has 30 miles of trails. Was a bit later than I wanted to get out, but the weather was still nice and cool. A very nice breeze. And it is starting to break from summer into the fall, which is generally my favorite time of the year.
Anyway, the peace on the trail, especially those parts that are wooded is so refreshing. The constant chirp of the crickets in the underbrush, the sudden whoosh of a flock of birds flying up, the two bucks with full racks we startled (and who startled Jack equally as much), the little bit of rock wall fence that is mostly fallen over indicating mans loss to nature is inevitable, the beautiful grasses that are nigh shoulder-high when on horse back, the bright purple plumage of the iron weed in full bloom, the occasional glimpse of a passion plant, and probably most enjoyable to me the fragrance of green walnuts plucked from the tree as we rode by at their peak of growth – it all adds up to as near to a paradise as there could be.