Stop and smell the pesticides / bin diesel

It's Fall in the Hood River Valley and it's gorgeous. I love the reds, oranges and yellows and the crisp, cool air. Yay for Fall. It was so nice the other day I decided to enjoy a refreshing walk outdoors with my son. We couldn't be happier; Koen decided to nod off to dreamland all bundled up in his stroller and I took in the sights, the smells and enjoyed the sounds of life in the orchard around me. Our muddy orchard road runs into a paved back road behind our house so I continued on with abounding energy; I could easily go for an hour today. The road I was taking leads to neighboring apple and cherry orchards in steeper terrain and I was ready to give the ol' hamstrings a workout. My breaths got quicker and deeper sucking in more oxygen as the walk became more challenging. Then I heard a noise... an engine in the distance; yep, definitely a plane coming right overhead. It was getting exceptionally loud, indicating that the plane was flying very low and I immediately jumped to worst case scenario - a scenic flight gone bad, the plane spiraling out of control towards my precious baby ending life as we knew it for both of us. Just then the plane came into view right above the apple trees and dropped its lovely load of pesticide spray right on top of us. My attitude took a dive and I was quietly cussing out the crop plane, the pilot and his chemical warfare. I draped a jacket over my (surprisingly) still sleeping baby and tried to filter the air I was heavily breathing through the sleeve of my sweatshirt. Yuck. The bitter taste in my mouth was horrendous, like I had licked the inside of a bottle of mosquito repellant. I wondered what breed of cancer would ensue. Geez. I decided to turn around and head back as soon as I saw the plane whip around for another drop. I made my way towards cleaner air and once again took in my beautiful surroundings, furrowed brow relenting. The walk was coming to an end and as I came within 15 feet of my turnoff back into the orchard an old beater diesel bin truck gave me a sucker punch send-off crippling my spirits. I was in a black cloud of exhaust so thick you could cut it. Who was I to think I could enjoy the outdoors and be "one with nature"? Big fat load of crap.