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The things that take me to my happy place
searcher5
Member Posts: 13,511 ✭
MrMIkes random thought thread made me think of this piece that I wrote in my blog some time ago. Hope it isn't a re-run.
Now, I'm a fairly simple man. Doesn't take a lot, to make me happy. Conversely, it doesn't take a lot to make me sad, either. Just one of those trade-offs, I expect. My blog is intended to be somewhat uplifting, and while melancholy is a great part of me, and will infiltrate most everything I do, this blog is intended to be mostly about happy things. As best I can, anyway.
There are things. Sounds, sights, smells that instantly transport me, if for only a moment in time, to my "happy' place.
The song "Danny Boy". My mother sang that to me when I was young. It always reminds me of her. Train whistles in the night, Thunder, on a dry summers day, in the distance. Rain on a tin roof. Coyotes yipping. Dogs howling at the moon. A baby's laughter. A sigh of contentment, from one you hold dear. Cattle mooing, the urging whinny of a horse that is ready to go. The voice of a loved one, telling you that everything is going to be alright, heard in the night, in that place between reality, and maybe not so much, between awake and asleep, where you question the things that you see and hear. And end up believing those things which you wish to believe. The verses of the Bible, spoken in honest passion, by a sincere soul, firm in their beliefs, and firm in their compassion.
The sight of one you love, as you come home from a hard days work. (even better, if she's wearing a blue flowered cotton dress, and the sun is shining on her, and she is waving happily at you, as you come into sight). Your dog greeting you, (much the same scenario, minus the cotton dress), babies. Any babies, but mostly, your blood. Family around your table. Smiles, from those you love. That smile of greeting, from one grown old, that nearly seems to split that aged and wrinkled face. Golden autumn leaves, covering a red dirt road, rising in a maelstrom about you, as you pass that way. Flames from a fire. One that warms your body, and spirit, or cooks the food to sustain your body. And soul. The glow of that fire, reflected in the caring faces of kindred spirits.
The smell of bread baking, rain in the spring, vanilla perfume, hay freshly mowed, books newly opened, Thanksgiving and Christmas dinner in the oven, with the expectation of those you love soon to be about you. Horses. Saddles and sweat. (anything about horses smells good. Even the sh...., well, you know.) Iron. Cut, ground, or welded. Babies. Especially the top of their heads. New Leather. Did I mention books freshly opened? Seems like you can almost smell what their contents have to offer. "White Diamonds" on anybody. But, mostly on one you love. Or used to love. Smoke from a wood fire. One that warms your body, and spirit, or cooks the food to sustain your body. And soul. Burnt gunpowder, after a days hunt, hoppes #9, mixed with woodsmoke, burnt gunpowder, wet dogs, in the chill of the evening, after long days hunting. Coffee. Brewing, or just the smell from a fresh opened can. Fresh turned earth, waiting for the seed, the promises of spring, that summer fulfills. The smell of a woman, fresh from the shower, when the door opens, and that sweet, heavenly, perfumed scent of femininity permeates the air.
These are things, that bring me to the place I love to be, if only, mostly, these days, in memory.
Peace
Dan
Now, I'm a fairly simple man. Doesn't take a lot, to make me happy. Conversely, it doesn't take a lot to make me sad, either. Just one of those trade-offs, I expect. My blog is intended to be somewhat uplifting, and while melancholy is a great part of me, and will infiltrate most everything I do, this blog is intended to be mostly about happy things. As best I can, anyway.
There are things. Sounds, sights, smells that instantly transport me, if for only a moment in time, to my "happy' place.
The song "Danny Boy". My mother sang that to me when I was young. It always reminds me of her. Train whistles in the night, Thunder, on a dry summers day, in the distance. Rain on a tin roof. Coyotes yipping. Dogs howling at the moon. A baby's laughter. A sigh of contentment, from one you hold dear. Cattle mooing, the urging whinny of a horse that is ready to go. The voice of a loved one, telling you that everything is going to be alright, heard in the night, in that place between reality, and maybe not so much, between awake and asleep, where you question the things that you see and hear. And end up believing those things which you wish to believe. The verses of the Bible, spoken in honest passion, by a sincere soul, firm in their beliefs, and firm in their compassion.
The sight of one you love, as you come home from a hard days work. (even better, if she's wearing a blue flowered cotton dress, and the sun is shining on her, and she is waving happily at you, as you come into sight). Your dog greeting you, (much the same scenario, minus the cotton dress), babies. Any babies, but mostly, your blood. Family around your table. Smiles, from those you love. That smile of greeting, from one grown old, that nearly seems to split that aged and wrinkled face. Golden autumn leaves, covering a red dirt road, rising in a maelstrom about you, as you pass that way. Flames from a fire. One that warms your body, and spirit, or cooks the food to sustain your body. And soul. The glow of that fire, reflected in the caring faces of kindred spirits.
The smell of bread baking, rain in the spring, vanilla perfume, hay freshly mowed, books newly opened, Thanksgiving and Christmas dinner in the oven, with the expectation of those you love soon to be about you. Horses. Saddles and sweat. (anything about horses smells good. Even the sh...., well, you know.) Iron. Cut, ground, or welded. Babies. Especially the top of their heads. New Leather. Did I mention books freshly opened? Seems like you can almost smell what their contents have to offer. "White Diamonds" on anybody. But, mostly on one you love. Or used to love. Smoke from a wood fire. One that warms your body, and spirit, or cooks the food to sustain your body. And soul. Burnt gunpowder, after a days hunt, hoppes #9, mixed with woodsmoke, burnt gunpowder, wet dogs, in the chill of the evening, after long days hunting. Coffee. Brewing, or just the smell from a fresh opened can. Fresh turned earth, waiting for the seed, the promises of spring, that summer fulfills. The smell of a woman, fresh from the shower, when the door opens, and that sweet, heavenly, perfumed scent of femininity permeates the air.
These are things, that bring me to the place I love to be, if only, mostly, these days, in memory.
Peace
Dan
Comments
Thank you Dan, you just did the same for me.[:)]
The hussle and strife in today's world fills one's mind to the point of being numb. But something, a sight. a smell, an old song, a loved one's voice, puppies,the sunset or sun rise and for a moment or two my mind will drift back to a happy place, when and where, life was better.
They've made me smile.
Peace
Dan