The country dog chased her first skunk on Saturday night. We were not prepared for this inevitable event of country living. We now have a stockpile of tomato juice and apple cider vinegar. Better late than never I suppose but much of what we own now smells vaguely of skunk! This was not the natural, country living experience we had in mind, but, like the beavers, it’s all part of our new reality. I’ll let you know when it stops stinking around here, but I don’t think it will be any time soon.
It was remarkably still outside last night when I walked the stinky country dog. No car sounds. No planes. No sound from other houses. I felt for a moment as if I stepped right into the stillness that I’ve been longing for. I wanted to pull that stillness right into the core of my being and dwell in it for the rest of time. As soon as I tried to possess this silence, make it mine and keep it forever a jet flew over the top of our house. It took the longest time for its sound to fade. I made the dog stand still with me as I begged the heavens to grant me just one more moment of that stillness. No luck. The stillness didn’t come back, but somehow I was left with a reminder of what it is I’m seeking.
