Lab
Library
Journal
Shop
Sign in
to keep
Share image
1
158
Adventures in Contentment
·
David Grayson
52
This
morning,
after
hastening
with
the
chores,
I
took
my
bag
and
my
spade
on
my
shoulder
and
set
off
(in
rubber
boots)
for
the
ditch.
My
way
lay
along
the
margin
of
my
cornfield
in
the
deep
grass.
On
my
right
as
I
walked
was
the
old
rail
fence
full
of
thrifty
young
hickory
and
cherry
trees
with
here
and
there
a
clump
of
blackberry
bushes.
The
trees
beyond
the
fence
cut
off
the
sunrise
so
that
I
walked
in
the
cool
broad
shadows.
On
my
left
stretched
the
cornfield
of
my
planting,
the
young
corn
well
up,
very
attractive
and
hopeful,
my
really
frightful
scarecrow
standing
guard
on
the
knoll,
a
wisp
of
straw
sticking
up
through
a
hole
in
his
hat
and
his
crooked
thumbs
turned
down--"No
mercy."
"Surely
no
corn
ever
before
grew
like
this,"
I
said
to
myself.
"To-morrow
I
must
begin
cultivating
again."
So
I
looked
up
and
about
me--not
to
miss
anything
of
the
morning--and
I
drew
in
a
good
big
breath
and
I
thought
the
world
had
never
been
so
open
to
my
senses.
I
wonder
why
it
is
that
the
sense
of
smell
is
so
commonly
under-regarded.
To
me
it
is
the
source
of
some
of
my
greatest
pleasures.
No
one
of
the
senses
is
more
often
allied
with
robustity
of
physical
health.
A
man
who
smells
acutely
may
be
set
down
as
enjoying
that
which
is
normal,
plain,
wholesome.
He
does
not
require
seasoning:
the
ordinary
earth
is
good
enough
for
him.
He
is
likely
to
be
sane--which
means
sound,
healthy--in
his
outlook
upon
life.
Marker
Marker
Fine marker
White-out
Fine white-out
Circle
Paint
Unmarker
Hand
Scalpel
Dice
Sieve
Purify
Undo
Redo
Start over
