The view from my office window says it’s one of those gloomy sorts of days. Cloudy. Not with white puffy clouds that make you happy but with the grey ones, lacking shape, moving quickly across the sky.
The weather app on my phone says 43 agrees. Later it will be 60. No rain. The app isn’t always right even though the national weather center is ten miles from here. So I slip a turtle neck on with my jeans, add a polar fleece layer and then stick my arms into my vest. No sense being cold. I stuff my leather roper gloves into the pockets and head out.
One of the barn cats, impatient for her breakfast, almost trips me. She weaves back and forth in front of my feet not realizing she’s slowing her breakfast. I’m an early riser- 5:00 AM 5:30 at the latest, but maybe four cups of coffee has kept Princess waiting. The barn cats complain as I enter their domain. Their dinner dish is upside down on the floor and they’re anxious to tell me the intruder last night ate all their food and they’re starving. Their chubby tummies speak lies- at least about part of the statement. I saw the intruder as I closed up in the evening. A big possum who had no intention of letting me scare him off while he chowed down. I figured he might as well finish and I’d pick up the kitties’ food dish earlier tomorrow.
I give them fresh kibble and a can of little Friskies Seafood Dinner and make the rounds feeding horses, checking water tanks, listening as they let me know they are the most hungry animal on the farm.
The breeze is medium and the air feels damp but no one is cold, especially not me. It’s one of those days refreshing, peaceful days, the kind that makes stress evaporate.
I notice our blind barn kitty wandering up the drive toward the highway and I head that way to divert her path, making a wide circle to end up in front instead of driving her forward from behind. I see her hesitate as she gets closer. She’s measuring the noise and knows she’s close. I climb the fence and crunch through the leaves in front of her, successfully reversing her path. She heads back to the barn to hunt mice by sound.
Crunching leaves. Last night as I watched six doe in the pasture I noticed all but the lowest leaves had turned and blow out of the hedgerow. How did that happen so fast? I’m not a winter fan and I know what lays a few weeks ahead. But for today I enjoy one of God’s lovely gifts-a perfect fall day.