The Nose Knows

Here’s this week’s reflection. I hope it resonates with you and ask that, if you enjoyed, please comment and share on your social media. Heartfelt thanks for all your support!

Keeping the light on for you,

Carol

When it comes to the weather, March in the Heartland is a dice roll. If a day should present itself as favorable (as in over 40 degrees with a hint at sunshine), we Midwesterners stream outside in droves, some even sporting shorts and flip flops, to absorb a little vitamin D. One such day presented itself a few weeks back; unsurprisingly, my yellow lab, Angel, and I were in violent agreement as to one necessary activity – a walk. 

Like the weather, Angel’s distance preference is also a crap shoot. She often starts enthusiastically and ends her mission immediately after cursory business. Because of this, I decided against hiking boots, donning a less hardy choice for strolling pavement. Yet this fair-weather mutt, propelled by relative warmth and sunshine, had a different plan. She’s sneaky that way. Her all-terrain paws turned toward our soggy woodland trails; just far enough from home to deny my paws proper tread. I had no choice but to follow and make the best of it. If she was willing to go the distance, who was I to argue? 

We are fortunate to have protected trails nearby. As the proverbial “fun parent,” I usually let Angel sniff to her heart’s content as we amble along whatever route she selects – a sharp contrast to Dad’s more focused excursions. But joy is in both the journey and its discoveries, and this day would not disappoint. 

To say we both felt more alive than usual was an understatement despite winter’s surrounding remnants. We skirted around now-slushy ice paths, expanses of mud, remaining piles of dirty snow, and areas of limp, faded leaves. Both canine and human pressed onward, an odd enthusiasm nudging us along. This day just felt different. 

Exiting the woods, our trail looped familiarly through conserved prairie. The sharp contrast of brisk air off the still-frozen lake with the scents of warming earth, faint melodies of bird songs, and the swelling of infant buds was exhilarating! I craned my neck and peered inside a few empty nesting boxes hoping to see a tiny beak, but nothing returned my gaze. The meadow was not ready to end its hibernation. Or was it?

Angel and I suddenly halted, our noses alerted to a startlingly sweet perfume of blossoms yet unseen. We stood in silence and deeply inhaled the profound fragrance of new life. Mother Nature had just blown us a kiss and, through her offering, I realized that I had never before experienced the oft-described “first sweet scent of spring.”  It came quickly, lingered but a moment, then dissipated with another cool blast off the lake. Angel and I gazed at each other, her ears flicking as if to say, “I told you there was something good out here!” We resumed our contemplative saunter, a dog once again with her nose to the ground and a human with her head in the clouds. 

Why had I not experienced this wonderful phenomenon before? Had all my years of “busyness” and self-importance enclosed me in a fortress without windows? Had I unknowingly denied myself countless new vistas and paradigms, and my soul the unpredictable treasures of the outside world?

The hamster wheel of perfectionism, and its associated blinders and compulsions, had indeed clouded my ability to see value in “disorder.” Much like the barometric tension of changing seasons, turbulence is an essential and fruitful part of the circle of life. I have come to understand now, that just below the surface of last season’s detritus, the compost teems with goodness which springs forth when we least expect it. And that the patience required to appreciate life’s cyclical nature offers a wellspring of opportunity for self-discovery. 

Angel and I ended up logging 2.5 thoughtful miles in sunshine. In sync, we searched for nourishment and were rewarded. Returning home, Angel smugly retired to her bed. And I to my chair, content and deep in thought. 

That ambrosial peck on the cheek has stayed with me. Since that day, grass has greened and the buds have increased in girth – all thanks to Sol’s increasingly frequent visits. For my next walk with Angel, I will sport the boots to go the distance in search of new smells. For, when the mood strikes her, Angel clearly has a lot to show me.