The dogs needed to go out and since it was such a beautiful day I decided it'd be a great opportunity to let them play outside longer than normal. They ran through the yard and pottied, then Baxter spotted pure gold. The farmer had thrown out apples and pears for the chickens that we can't sell at the produce stand. They had small spots on them and weren't the best looking. I stomped a few with my boot so the chickens could eat them easier.
The insides were perfect. I called and asked him if they were okay to eat (yes, I was definitely about to cut them spots and eat them! LOL!), but he told me he'd bring me some more home.
I picked up a pear and put it to my nose. I hadn't smelled pears in so long. I took in a deep breath as a rain-laden breeze swept the smell of fresh pears into my nostrils. Then I grabbed up half an apple to take to the pheasant pen to let them have a snack. The smell of crisp apples and pears floated along with the air and for a moment I was taken to a faraway place. I was back in North Carolina for a moment laying in the grass on the side of the mountain engulfed in a sweet-scented breeze. It's amazing how certain smells can bring on memories.
It was almost like if early Fall had a scent, you know before the pumpkins, caramel, and smores, fresh apples and pears would be the scent.
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