There's no doubt about it. I love living in a four-season world. My heart overflows with joy during our seasons of color. And yet, I love the cold, grey days of winter as well.
I pulled my muck cart around the front pasture yesterday afternoon cleaning up after my equine family had spent the morning there grazing.
Dressed warmly, I felt the cold on my face as the winter wind blew through the big, old pine tree in the front pasture. To me it's such a peaceful sound - the song of wind through pine needles.
It was the only sound at the time - the bird and insect choruses silenced by the cold - the brush on a snare drum rhythm of wind in needles. Oh, and the purring of Griz on my shoulder.
Constant purring. Un-interrupted purring. And licking. And more purring.
Cold wind. Warm purring.
I walked through the pasture with an ever-growing manure bucket in tow... sure-footed Griz holding onto my shoulder like a mountain goat on a rocky ledge. No matter what, he was not going to lose his perch!
Over in the dry lot, the herd was peacefully napping... after having given everything they had to the front pasture.
We passed the gate to the pig yard and MaryAnn and Ginger came...