Peaceful, serene, relaxing, Mississippi dirt road living


We watched a trail ride slide by out front of the house Sunday afternoon. There is something kind of peaceful about watching the horses, and wagons, and all their riders meandering down a dirt road. Something serene, something Mississippi, something real relaxing, something almost carefree, something that makes country living, well, country living.

From the comfort of the living room, we could just barely hear the chatter of the riders. It was kind of cool and windy out on the front porch, but from there we could have just about joined the conversation if we so chose.

I moseyed out on the porch a couple of times to see if there were more riders topping the hill to the north and to listen to the clip clop of the mules and the rattle and clang of the wagons as they slowly crept by.  It kind of gave me a nostalgic feeling. Perhaps even a longing for the days when trail rides were not just rides, but the regular means of traveling to and fro.

Our dogs went into a conniption fit a couple of times and the oldest, Bella, a 10-year-old Yorkie, warned her two  Chihuahua sisters, Dottie and Roxie that there was something amiss out front and that they should join her in warning the humans of the house. They are always eager to oblige and warn they did. When Dottie and Roxie get started it sounds more like a couple of laughing hyenas rather than yapping Chihuahuas, and wife, Danny, even said she believed we had coyotes in the kitchen or something to that nature.

Needless-to-say the peaceful tranquility bubble of the trail ride was then burst, not that it mattered anymore anyway, as about that same time the unmistakable base note thump from a boombox in one of the wagons brought the two humans of the house back to reality very quickly. And, of course, that thump brought the Yorkie warnings and hyena chorus up to full throttle, at which point wife, Danny, spoke up again. “Kind of takes something away from it, doesn’t it,” she asked in a rhetorical kind of way — I think referring to the thump, but it could have just as easily been the dogs she was talking about.

As far as coyotes go, we do have a pack in the edge of the woods just across the road. Every now and then one trots across the front yard and I often wonder what our spoiled city-born dogs in the house would do if they confronted one of their wild relatives face to face in the yard. Roxie, for certain, would turn tail and run. She turns tail and runs at just about anything except the yard cat, that we feed but really isn’t ours, and horses, and mules, and wagons and people as long as she is telling them what she thinks from the comfort of  her pillow in front of the heater.

The real coyotes did sound a lot like our house hyenas last week during the great Super Blue Blood Moon Eclipse of 2018. Just as dawn was about to break, and the shadow of the earth eclipsed the moon, and the time came for me to take the house dogs out for their morning duty, the coyotes had their own conniption fit.

I’m pretty sure it was the first time I’ve ever heard the pack let loose howling at the moon as it settled on the horizon to the west and sun began to show signs of rising in the east and day was beginning to break. I’ve certainly never heard it with an elderly Yorkie and two Chihuahuas howling in unison.

I guess it is safe to say it was at that point I figured I should herd our house dogs back into the house before the yard dogs in the woods decided to come show them who was boss.

Peaceful, serene,  relaxing, carefree, country, Mississippi, dirt road living?

Yep, that’s what they tell me anyway!”