I Just Went to Pick Up Some Sticks . . .
An editorial office can feel like a microcosm where you tend to forget that anything is going on elsewhere. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing. We brainstorm, we concentrate (hard), we laugh, we eat great stuff people bring in to share, we create, and we more often than not end the day feeling like we’ve worked hard but that it’s been very satisfying. So, when I leave the office for a bit in the middle of the day, it’s almost a surprise that there’s so much activity out there in the rest of the world. Today’s errand was because I forgot to write myself a note to bring in some knitting needles for a photoshoot tomorrow. (Asked earlier if I had any suitable needles, I squirmed when I envisioned my “other” stash — needles.)
In a hurry to get back to work, I was dismayed when two big trucks loaded with fresh-cut hay pulled out of my neighbor’s driveway right ahead of me, and I realized my return trip was going to take a whole lot longer than expected. Following (very slowly) along behind, I started thinking about those sweet-smelling loads, and how that beautiful-June-day scent was going to linger and, on a bitter cold January day, would fill the barn where it was headed with a different, but still wonderful echo of its fresh essence. And I thought of the sheep who would push and butt their way to get to the trough where it was spread out for them and of how round and woolly they’d be. What would I do with all those needles if there were no sheep to replenish my supply? I happened to have my iPad handy, and although it probably wasn’t the safest thing I’ve ever done, I managed to get a shot of those meals on wheels.