There's a Calm that Encompasses when you leave the Pavement behind and hit Ruts and Washboards that Rattle your Truck and your Brain , Shaking Loose the Cobwebs of Complacency . Overhanging Branches Take you into their Cathedral Embrace , Soothing Ruffled Psyches and Feathers alike . Time and Treks Slow , Dusty Yellow , Purple and White Wildflowers Appear like Magic in the Ditches . Occasionally , Wild Turkey or Deer Materialize Inciting a Riot of Sound and Activity with my Shotgun Rider as she Frantically Scrambles to Retain them in her Scent and Sight . Nostrils Quivering , Eyes Blazing and Howling like a Banshee , she Leaps from front seat to back and front again , checking each partially opened window for the best Vantage Point as we Crawl Past them . We each Take away what we need the Most --
Hazel the Exhilaration of the Hunt and Me the Quest for Peace that can Only be Found in Nature ...