Peaceable Man Files #57: An Early Morning Walk Before the Heat

Random musings on my vagabond existence in the Endless Mountains of Pennsylvania and wherever else life takes me.

It’s seven o’clock in the morning and already it’s 75 degrees. My weather app says it’s heading for 93 degrees today.

That’s hot for up here in the Endless Mountains of Pennsylvania. Too hot for me, at least, being that I’m a cool-weather guy. Cassie doesn’t care much for the heat either, so we head out early for our walk around the field.

The hay, high now in late June, is coated with dew and shimmers in the rising sunlight. Last evening after I arrived here after my drive up from the Philly suburbs, I went out with the mower and cut a walking path around the field. I’m happy I did so else there’d be no way Cassie and I could do this walk without getting soaked.

I breathe deep the fresh country air, deliciously free of the industrial smells that pollute the air down south. The worst smell back home comes from the meat rendering plant. Every week or so, we get a good dose of it, and I find it nauseating.

There’s none of that up here, only the smell of dew-moistened Timothy hay being baked in the morning sun. Cassie surprises me by running into the hay and kicking up a turkey and a covey of chicks. It’s nesting time for turkeys, which mate in April and May.

I count six chicks in all. Cassie chases after them, but they’re beyond her now, into the safety of the woods. I hear the mother clucking, calling them to her.

The birdsong up here is amazing. I am bathed in it this morning. Among the songbirds I hear are sparrows, catbirds, warblers, orioles, and a red-eyed Vireo. I track them all on the Merlin Bird ID app on my phone. I love the app, perhaps too much, for here I am looking at my smartphone while I should be paying attention to the nature that’s in front of me.

I put the phone away and continue on my walk. Cassie has forgotten the turkeys and is now after a bunny rabbit. As she dives into the brush after it, I step awkwardly on a rock and my arthritic right hip gives a painful twitch. Ouch.

I’m down to the last few weeks with this hip before I will have it replaced in mid-July. At that point, I will have two artificial hips and hopefully I will be all set for another 50,000 miles. Well, except for my right knee, which is also bone-on-bone and will need to be replaced as well.

Sigh. This getting old is for the birds, as my late father would say. His favorite saying about aging was a classic. “If I wake up in the morning and nothing hurts,” he used to say, “I think I’m dead.”

I miss him. I miss my buddy Peter, who passed away four years ago and loved this property almost as much as I do. I miss my grandmothers. I miss aunts and uncles who have passed. My three high school buddies who left this world too soon.

So many people have come and gone, leaving only memories. Life is full of loss, and all we can do is keep walking in faith and hope.

As I round the final bend and head up the hill toward the house, I think how every day is a gift and every morning is an opportunity to start anew. How much time do we have left? Only our Creator knows. All we can do is take it one moment at a time and give thanks for the time we have.

Back at the house, I pour a cup of coffee, grab my laptop, and sit down on the deck in the shade. I will work outside this morning until it gets too hot. The air is cool in the shade and lovely. A hummingbird stops by for a drink of nectar.

I say a prayer of thanks, set my fingers on the keyboard, and begin my day’s work.