Yesterday, on the way to the barn, I had the pleasure of witnessing the still and quiet of the morning. Early morning mist was still clinging low to the ground. The sun was able to shine through, causing a golden glow. Flying over the mist were a group of Canadian geese, their instincts drawing them to the wetland across the road.
The sunflowers I had planted months ago, at the side of the barn, were standing tall, faces to the sun.
I heard a meow, but where was the cat? Hiding in the weeds? Stalking her prey, as if she were a big cat in the savannah? Then I spotted her, trotting down the driveway. A drifter, as are so many barn cats, in the country.
I pet Jazz on the neck, her soft fur and her coarse mane. She tolerates my admiration, as she chows down on the breakfast I just served. She is a pretty horse, even as she is aging. I wonder if she considers or even remembers her days as a barrel racer?
The farmer has started harvesting the corn behind our house. Hard to believe that, that time is already here. Later in the day, I could hear the tractor chugging and see the thin wisp of smoke as the tractor made its way through the field. Ace barked hard at the intruder. What was this loud monster, eating up the field?
We are right on the cusp of my favorite season. Oh, how that makes me happy.
Thankful for another day.