Many of you know I live on a farm. When I first bought the property I spent that first evening on a picnic in the grass, looking up at the brightest stars I've ever seen. At night, the crickets sing like they are in concert. In the distant, (and sometimes not so distant) tree lines coyotes howl, yip, and play with one another. The first time I heard young pups playing was an eye-opener. I've never heard such racket. Once the sun goes down, we don't get much road traffic, but we can hear the train a good 7 miles away. Not just the whistle, but the chug-chug of wheels on the track as well. Occasionally the Air Force Base sends an A-10 or a B-2 on a mission or there's something flying in. And in between all this, we hear the horses in the pasture. Nickering now and then, an occasional whinny, and just the quiet hooves walking from one place to another.
The other day I went looking for a screw and encountered this guy:
Okay, maybe not that precise one, but that's a great representation. He was curled up in a plastic tub, not the least bit bothered by us. We left him be, and I assume, since I haven't seen any baby pigeons this year, he's still in residence.
Speaking of pigeons -- last spring we found a fledgling on the ground in the same barn. She now resides in the house. We hand-fed her, and at night she coos to us. Very soothing melody.
Right now, we're fascinated by our newest old edition, Baariq. He's been in a boarding facility for about three years, and we just brought him back home. This photograph is pretty old; he's grown up a lot since this, filled out into adult form, and follows us around. He lives in our front yard, because the gentleman beneath him, runs the pasture. (Khemo is a yearling in this photo)
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| Baariq |
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| Khemokaizee |
And then, every now and then, we stroll to the far corner where those who've been with us and left us now rest. It may sound morbid, but really no... it's nice to go back and walk through memories and know our old friends are still nearby. And that's what makes a house ahome, I think. The little tidbits of us we leave behind. Then we can turn around and see their legacy, and everything's a happy place.
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| Isabella |
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| Isabella's daughter |
We love our piece of the outdoors. My boys pick flowers as often as they can for Mom (of their own accord!), bring me grasshoppers regularly, caterpillars, beetles, and great big honking clods of mud. The dogs leave me presents in the yard that, quite often, I don't want to know what they were. But those little gifts draw visitors like the big old buzzard who perched one morning on the kids' picnic table. The hawks talk to us, two days ago we saw a golden eagle. And all around you can hear the echoing chorus of mooo-mooo. Calves in springtime are such an adorable thing!
On that note, I'm heading out the door and shipping off to RomCon 2012! Hope I will see some of you there!
Claire
3 comments:
Claire, I've always lived in the city, so I was doubly fascinated to read your descriptions of the sounds in the country. I wonder if I'd be able to sleep with all that going on! Thanks for sharing.
We don't have horses but moved to a farm this year and I can relate!
Claire, I missed your post yesterday and am playing catch-up. What gorgeous horses you have. Your backyard sounds like an exciting place.
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