I happened to notice as January lagged on that I felt the change. Did you feel it? It’s that tangible something; that palpable “harrumph” that settles into the bones and gnaws like field mice behind old plaster. It’s the dog days of winter, my friends, and I don’t like it one bit.
It changes a person; makes them feel trapped. It makes otherwise calm and rational people suddenly explode into a tirade when they hear that the price of Yemeni quail eggs has nearly doubled. This is what we become when the sun has been vanished for so long and even 200 channels cannot rectify the seemingly hopelessness of the situation.
It’s in this spirit that I give you a little something to hold on to.
- Remember the smell of fresh cut grass.
- Think of seeing the bobber dart beneath the surface of a flat pond.
- Breathe deep and imagine the smell of the ocean as it pounds against hot sand that pulls out from under your toes with the retreat of each swell.
- Breathe again and remember the smell of dew-laden spruce boughs as you push back your tent fly while the first light of dawn gathers around the edges of the woods.
- Imagine the taste of a burger; just lifted off the flames.
Keep this list. Cut it out and hang it on your refrigerator for the next time you feel like throwing your shovel at the snowplow. We made it through last year and we’ll do it again. In the meantime, spray a little WD-40 on your bike, dust off your fishing gear, and set the tent up in the living room for a night. We all do what we have to when it comes to surviving the dog days.
~C. Douglas McIntire
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