First, I felt the so-called “itch” on my feet, so we decided to walk up the trail and burn some fat. It’s 11:00 in the morning, the sun made sure the wind had some scorching heat blowing with it. And that’s how I know there would be some prickly rashes waiting to erupt once I’m done with this trek.
Then there’s the wooded trail that signals our closeness to nature, but that also means being close to the pollens. Yes, the shrubs and flowers are so ready for reproduction, their pollens ready to sneak into my nose, ears, eyes and throat. Itch follows, naturally.
Have you ever seen weedy grasses with foxtail spikes? When trails become narrow, the grass gets in the way, and manages to graze a few pricks here and there against my arms and pants. The itch continues.
And poor Mitzy. The toxic leaves of poison oak decides to get its oil into my mini-schnauzer’s butt. I just know it. She’ll get the itch too.
I hope each day doesn’t turn out to be an itch day. But the hike made me happy. And the itch – nothing a good scratch can’t fix. Funny there’s a saying about happiness, scratch and itch.
Happiness is having a scratch for every itch.
– Ogden Nash