stop and smell the roses grass seed

today driving home, i was hit by one of my favorite smells in the world: grass going to seed. at least i think that's what it is. i've spent several years now trying to pin it down. the smell takes me back to summers on hammonasset beach with my grandparents in late august. sometimes driving along, or walking through the woods, a wisp of that drifts by and pulls me into the green-gold of high summer. i'll breathe deep and try to hold the smell as long as i can. if they made perfume out of it, i swear i'd wear it every day. i love it.

enough that when i smelled it on the way home (detouring around construction), i slowed down to the speed limit just so i could smell it longer. plus the detour goes through town, and you just never know where santa's helpers will be. 

luckily for me, because while i was driving my 35 mph, the truck ahead of me turned right towards the high school, and another truck at the stop sign decided it was his turn to cross the street. i slammed on the brakes (schreeching tires and skidding at the end) and the truck was still a foot or three in front of my jeep when i stopped. we would have made a lovely t-bone otherwise.

all of a sudden i was very grateful for a lot of things:

that we just put new tires on

that my brakes work

that i reacted quickly

even for the skid at the end, because it turned me further away from the truck

that i slowed down for that grass seed

and maybe most of all, for our prayers to travel safe every day

i was kinda freaked out. and i saw the guy turn his head at the sound of my tires, like, what's happening. i've tried to put myself in his spot, but i still have no clue what he was thinking (was he thinking?). he was maybe 30 feet ahead of me when he pulled out. just barely enough space to stop. and if i wasn't paying attention?

so lesson for the day was: stop and smell the grass seed. it maybe could save your life.