I brought in another load of wood and filled the wood stove. My back is tired from all that I have carried in. I grabbed my coat, it is 33 degrees outside, warmer than it has been but still, I’m cold. Walking out to my car I am mumbling and grumbling under my breath about being cold and the overcast sky. Where is the bright sunshine? I need the sun. I start driving down the road, heading out to do my grocery shopping. Right on queue the radio station starts to play Jimmy Buffett, Margaritaville. Naturally I crank it up and sing along. In about a half a second I’m carried away to a warm sandy beach and I’m dreaming about how wonderful and sunny and warm it is. The waves are slowly lapping on the shore and I am drifting away…
Screech, back to reality, in front of me at the top of the hill a pickup truck has stopped with the flashers going – should I stop? No, most likely it is someone looking for their lost hunting dog. ( I grumble about that too.) It is a pretty common sight on my country roads these days. Not missing a word to my fantasy song, I continue down the hill and then I see down in the ravine a bright flash of red and the most incredibly beautiful sight. I quickly reach over to the passenger seat grabbing for my camera – except it isn’t there. Damn! I can’t believe I don’t have my camera.
Sitting on the most magnificent horse was a man completely turned out in full traditional fox-hunting attire, including scarlet jacket, “pinks”. I stopped the car long enough to wish him a good day, and tell him how much I wished I had my camera with me. I didn’t count the buttons on his jacket to determine his position with the hunt staff, but none the less he was so handsome and spoke in such an elegant manner he was the absolute picture of southern charm and discipline. It was such a wonderful sight it brought tears to my eyes.
Sometimes we all need something so simple, yet so out of the ordinary to shake us up and remind us how great our surroundings are. I am truly thankful and appreciative of living out here in the country of central Virginia, yes even when it is cold and the sun isn’t shinning and my back hurts from carrying in the wood. I often day-dream and plan my next trip away to the ocean, but know that I am blessed to live where I do and happy to return home.
Today, I am grateful that I was reminded of the joys of living in the country.
Now all you little foxes run, run, run!
Until next time,