SNIFFING THE WIND

The other day as I was preparing supper I happened to look out the window just as the scent of frying pork chops hit the breeze.  Our dog had been lazing in the afternoon sun, sprawled out on the trampoline – it’s where he guards his kingdom from.  As I watched he went from a dormant, oblivious, pile of fur to upright and alert, sniffing the wind.  I’ve never seen a dog more in tuned with the world through his sense of smell.

But then, aren’t we all?

This wonderful season of spring has us all out, sniffing the wind.

Finally the never-ending Saskatchewan wind has more substance to it than just ice and snow.  Its relentless movement across the land stirs up not only what we can see – good old Saskatchewan dust – but also the things we can only smell: the earthy goodness of warming soil, the pungent tang of opening poplar leaves, and the whatever-it-is that makes clothes hung outside to dry smell so wonderful.  Even the less savory smells of thawing cattle sheds or freshly churned slough mud are welcomed as proof of life in a world so long dead and frozen and white.

Just like our dog, Turbo, we’ve gone from dormant to alert, and ready for action.  Everyone is venturing outside to look for odd jobs to do – anything to stretch the muscles and soak up some sunshine.  There are yards getting raked and tree branches being trimmed; a general tidying up while we wait for the grass to turn green and the dandelions to start blooming.

Gardeners are all trying to satisfy their longing for green things by planting seeds inside.  At the rate my giant pumpkins are growing I’ll soon need to trail their vines around the living room.  I might have been a tad over-eager for an early start when I planted them, but it was something to do until I could go out and play in my real garden.  Everyone has the same itch – even those who keep their gardening down to a few deck planters - just want to get started, to feel the moist earth on their fingers, to see the sprouts break through the soil.

And, on a much grander scale, a drive around the countryside shows the industrial side of growing things.  Tractors and all kinds of implements are parked helter-skelter around farm yards where it’s dry enough to change cultivator shovels and grease wheel bearings; the kinds of things that give farmers something to do while they wait for the frost to come out of the ground.

The other day I had to smile at the sight of one farmer’s seeding machinery, all hooked up and parked at the edge of a field.  Obviously all of his pre-seeding tasks had been taken care of but the time still wasn’t quite right to get rolling yet – but boy, was he ever ready to go! 

To me, as I drove past, it even looked like the tractor had its nose in the air, sniffing the wind.