The country smells of summer

The fresh wet smell of a newborn calf. The dry hot smell of Timothy hay in the window. The acrid work smell of tractor diesel. The sweat-stained bucking hay bales smell. The long evening smell of approaching rain. The sweet familiar smell of leather. The barely beat-the-sun-up passionate smell of coffee. The slow-down-sit-back-in-the-porch-rocker smell of cold beer.

The country summer smells that keep us whole.

STEVE JOHNSON

Sagle