Fall days out at the barn are one of life’s simple and magical pleasures to me. I dream about it all year. In my dream there are miles and miles of roads lined with oak trees and white split rail fencing and I’m galloping through pastures with the wind blowing my hair, my fine wool scarf breezing behind me, and the animal beneath me is toned and frothy from the excitement. We are one.
In reality it is a beautiful fall day and there are miles and miles of poop piles to clean up and wheel barrow to the edge of the pasture, no wind blowing my hair, and my animals are both lazy and out of shape. And the fine wool scarf? Forget it. It would surely just get pooped on or dunked in a water bucket. And yet…someday.
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I went out to the barn this afternoon to do just that. I scooped poop and roped off half of Casper’s pasture to let it grow up. Then I made up the grain for the week. I need to get pellets already. I was gone about an hour. Wish I could remember the rest. I know I enjoyed being out there. The auto light just turned on when I closed the barn door to leave. Perfect timing. I’m coming Nina………
