Saturday, January 09, 2020 (In 11 days Biden officially will become President)
Little makes me happier than leading the horses safely, about a quarter-mile from home, and then releasing them to graze all day. After hanging their halters on the dormant cherry trees, I’ll go home.
That pasture belongs to a kind neighbor who grants us free access in winter-time. Frozen grasses aren’t full of sugar and thus my easy weight-gainers may eat all they can hold. The pasture is large and they can run, sometimes bucking and kicking. Through the daylight hours as horses should, they graze and stroll, or stand and doze.
Yesterday’s early morning light snow created a fresh, pretty landscape. By the time my horses reached pasture, the snow mostly had melted. After making sure their water wasn’t frozen, I headed home. That would be a working day, but I didn’t want to think about this, and instead, considered a book I’m reading: Late Migrations by Margaret Renkl. Her reflections are thoughtful and powerful, and her prose is poetry.
My travel home included bumping into my next-door neighbor, Frank. Before I began working longer hours, and before his wife (a schoolteacher) began working from home, Frank and I chatted daily over the fence separating our properties. This year we’ve been busy and preoccupied, yesterday’s quick catch-up was fun.
Toward evening after work, we met again, Frank in his truck returning home from errands, and me out to fetch the horses. I thanked him for letting me and the horses travel through his property, a short-cut to my home. Once on his place, I can quit tugging to make the donkey track faster with the horses. Now safe from vehicle traffic, donkey set free follows the horses home.
After feeding the large animals and nearing the house, there was my handsome tabby, Maxwell, waiting for his dinner and focused on something invisible to me.
Dear Friends: That was a day when it felt good simply to feel good. Diana