Morning Walks

I think it's been a little more than a year now, maybe two, since the dogs and I started taking regular morning walks the half mile down to the end of our road and back.  Life without cows is different, and a bit more leisurely.

Sometimes we're walking in the dark, either with or without a headlamp if the moon is out. We regularly spook deer and turkeys from the adjacent field and woods, but it's been a while since I've seen them now, as they hunker down for the season.

I love looking over our homestead on the return leg. We've done a lot here, and it shows. The orchard, the garden, the new barn, tool shed, greenhouse, wood shed, the smithing shed... they all speak to what goes on here. It's a nice place to walk home to, guided by the familiar and comforting scent of wood smoke.

With the winter snow, we get to see a lot of tracks if not always their makers. There's always deer tracks. Coyote, squirrel, opossum, raccoon, fox, mouse... there's a lot happening here. Judging by the dogs' excitement, the smells tell quite a story.

Earlier in the week, in the pitch dark, I could smell a skunk.  The dogs were too far ahead to tell if they'd just been visited by the "stinky kitty".  Fortunately, they had not. The next morning (in the daylight), Bilbo "woofed!" out into the field, where I could see a black and white creature ambling out from the trees. Best not to encourage the dogs or get too close I thought. But then again, that's a boring way to live, so I walked out to investigate. Just a cat, this time.

The dogs know that the walks happen after morning chores. Clover loves the chores, since she gets to spend time watching horse or piggy TV, and that never gets old. If it's not too cold to come outside for chore-time, Bilbo likes to follow me into the horse barn (aka the "International House of Dumplings"), where he selects a frozen green treat or stinky hoof trimming to enjoy while nesting in the loose hay as I work.

If it is too cold, Bilbo waits in the house until chores are done.  I don't dare go on the walk without him though.

The woods across the street have quite a bit more diversity than our own, as they've been established much longer. One morning I noticed an unfamiliar flower. Google Lens said it was "Bellwort", which appears to be correct. Google may have had to dispense with their "Don't be evil" motto now that they work closely with the US government, but helping me identify flowers makes it all better.

The walks aren't all full of wildlife and flowers though. The locals don't seem to have a problem with using our road as their personal dumpster.  I've filled quite a few garbage cans worth -- initially enough to make it worth my while to drive down with the truck to pick it all up.

I regularly scheme about what I'd like to do if I were to catch someone throwing their trash on our road. I came up with an idea for a sign, reading Free Rocks!  (delivered through the windshield of anyone caught littering here).  Life would be so much more fun without self restraint!

One morning I was especially excited to find a debit card amongst a pile of household garbage. I googled the name on it and found a nearby address, dreaming of how I'd like to confront the bastard.  Should I return the garbage to his front doorstep?  My anger subsided a bit when I finally drove past the address -- a microscopic house sided in disintegrating OSB, now vacant and for sale.  I conceded that the person who lived there probably tossed their trash on our road simply because they couldn't afford garbage pickup. There's always more to the story, eh?

Another bag I found was filled with empty blister packs -- both for lithium batteries and Sudafed.  Yup, the local meth cooker tosses their garbage here too. Maybe the same person whose debit card I found.

On one walk, Rachel noticed a shotgun tossed to the side of the road.  Apparently a burglar decided that the additional sentencing for having a firearm wasn't worth it.

After a few months I had the road pretty well cleaned out, such that I know when something new arrives. This last summer there was a pile of clothing next to an empty suitcase sporting a greyhound bus tag from Chicago. Looked to be the clothing of a young woman (complete with lacy panties) and a young girl. I can only guess as to how their clothes ended up on the side of our road, but imagine the story is not a pleasant one.

When I'm lucky, our neighbor's cow is up at the fence, and I get to pick a little lush grass from the roadside (the cow only gets hay).  He gets a treat, and I get to pet a cow again.  Life is good.