Feeding time

I try to maintain a fairly tight schedule when it comes to feeding time. Amounts are dictated by weather and season. More heat producing foods in the winter. Extra hay put out when I see a storm blowing in. But that's just the chore of feeding time. It's not the watching the coming or the closing of the day. Stopping to watch the geese going from pasture to pond. It's not the low call of the horses. The call they give only to someone they really like.... or their food. the low, who, who , who, who.

This morning was far darker then it has been of late. It had rained a great deal yesterday and the heat has moved back in as well. The effect was as if by stepping outside I had been covered by a warm, damp blanket. The sky was offering me nothing this morning. No glow of the sun from the east. No stars sparkling. Dark enough I had to mind my step. Proceeding with caution as the wires of the electric fence were not visible. Just aimed for Pip's nose with the feed.

Then dipped out Chloe's ration and headed around to her lot. As I watched the ground, I noticed there were bits of glowing light. Mostly white, some with the tiniest hint of green, little stars tucked in among the grass. I have never seen foxfire before so cannot say that is what it was, but definitely some glowing fungi. It's luminescence peppered the ground around me. It left a person feeling as if fairies had been abroad during the night, forgetting their tiny lanterns after their nocturnal festivities. It wouldn't surprise me. It is part of the magic of my little farm, part of the peacefulness of feeding time. The darkness, the rumble of the ponies, the contented munching. Moments like this when all of your problems fall from your shoulders like drifting snow flakes.

There are a lot of people who just don't 'get' my battle to have this place, this life. Must be because they don't have feeding time.

louie