Smells like…

I grew up on a farm. Usually about this time of year, I start getting wistful. And the older I get, the more intense those feelings seem to get. There is just something about smells on the farm that soothe my soul and YES, I’m even talking about the smell of cow poop!

I remember once my dad said, after we had moved out to our 2.3 acres, “You know, when the wind comes from the south, you might smell the cattle from that farm. I just looked at him and said, “Yeah. Isn’t it great?”

But you know what? There have been plenty of south winds in the last 15 years and I smell our own neighborhood septic systems MUCH more frequently than I ever smell the cattle. Quite frankly, it’s a tad disappointing.

Of all the smells I remember from my childhood, my favorite is the smell of dirt. I smell dirt, and I feel calmer, more at peace. And did you know there is actually a perfume from Demeter called Dirt? I might have to get me some so I can be at peace more regularly ; )

The smell of the milk replacer for the calves also brings back a lot of fond memories. And if you have never experienced the smell of harvest, it’s worth a sniff!

That’s why the field directly west of the development I have called home since 2000 has so much appeal to me. A lot of houses have sprung up around us, but that field remains, for the time being anyway, and it is probably the most photographed, videoed and sniffed field in the state. Well, at least by me.

It was planted to soybeans last year. I must have visited that field 20 times last summer.

I took pictures from under the beans when I wanted to get a unique perspective for an Instagram series. And took a deep breath.
soybeans

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I took pictures when the sun was setting over the soybean field. And took a deep breath.

I took pictures when the storm clouds passed over the field. And took a deep breath.

I took pictures when the field was harvested. And took a deep breath.

soybean harvest

And sometimes I just sat there, watched as the clouds rolled by. And took a deep breath.

I don’t actually understand why someone would move to the country and then expect it to be like being in town just with more distance between you and your neighbors.

Rural living isn’t pristine living. It’s messy. It’s dusty.  Sometimes it’s really noisy. And sometimes it smells.

Take a deep breath. It’s all good.

 

 

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