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Sitting and watching Brett mow is very pleasant. Mike has gone for the day. I’ve buttoned up the worksite, put the chairs away and gotten everything done. I’ve grabbed three big pieces of wood in the back of the truck so that I can set my pumpkins on them at the house, and now I’m sitting at the top of the hill and the Northernmost pasture by the wood piles and I’m watching through the treeline as Brett goes back-and-forth in the middle pasture.

The smell of cut grass is one of the most lovely things about being on a farm. Everything is clean here. The breeze is blowing slightly down off the mountain, from my right to my left. I glance occasionally at the place where we see deer to see if one will sneak in since I’m downwind. The rustling of the leaves gives just enough background noise.

The sun is setting through the trees and the light is spectacular.

Even if there were no background noises, the only sound I can hear is the sound of the tractor going around. There’s no traffic. There’s no big trucks. No sirens, no horns, no hustle or bustle. Just dragonflies flying in and out of the grass, a cardinal in the tree, or the occasional pileated woodpecker calling from the top of one of the big sweet gums. Or maybe it’s a rustle of a squirrel or rabbit.

This is paradise. Mowing and working outside gets us away from the everyday pressures of the office environment, where there are often not a lot of measurable deliverables or feelings of accomplishment. With mowing, you can see everything that you’re getting done. It’s cathartic. You make your turns and the grass goes away.

It leaves behind the most pleasant smell, the feeling of outside, fresh air, and nature in general. And it makes the ride home a quiet accomplishment. A good tired. And an even better sleep.

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