Magical Morning

Good afternoon, folks!  I know I'm late. I usually get this postcard out to you in the morning.  But, I'm still sick, so I hope you'll excuse me for being late.

I was up and out early this morning taking Spot outside to take care of his morning necessities.  Then, on the way back inside, I noticed something magical.  No, it had nothing to do with Spot's outside business.  Get with the program!

Walking back into the people barn, I heard Chief give a soft whinny.  I looked down the horse barn, which is about 20 feet across from the people barn and connected by a breezeway.  Chief had his head sticking out of his window saying, "Hello."  This is Chief's usual morning greeting.  It's very sweet.

Of course, if you don't go give him his morning feed, Chief starts kicking the inside walls  of his stall.  So, the sweetness wears off of Chief pretty fast.  He likes to get what he wants, when he wants it.  Just ask Cowgirl Slim about that!  So, no, the magical thing wasn't Chief, cute as he was at the moment.

While looking down the length of the barns at Chief, my eyes fell on the property ahead of me.  I looked across my property and on to my neighbor's pasture next door.  It was the fog. 

The fog was rising gently from the ground up about four or five feet.  My neighbor's horses were at my fence as usual.  They are small horses, so I could see less of them.  Usually, with my larger horses, the fog hits them about shoulder level when it's the way it was this morning.

Shoulder level in the fog, my horses look as though they are floating on the fog.  I can't see their feet.  It only happens like this in the spring and fall. 

This phenomena, for lack of a better word, happens in those seasons because the ground is just warm enough and the air is just cool enough to make it happen.  In the winter, the ground is still warmer than the air.  But, the air is so cold, instead of this magical looking fog, you get a thick fog that goes all the way to the sky, or so it seems.

In the winter, sometimes I can't even see the horses outside in this thick winter fog.  When I can see them,  they look mythical.  It's as if they aren't real.  As if it's a myth they are even there.

But, they are there.  In that winter fog, they can be seen so faintly through it.  It's not until later in the morning when the fog lifts from the warmth of the sun that you can see the horses clearly.  But, I knew they were there all along.

I've never taken a picture of these magical, mythical moments.  But, perhaps I should.  The pace is often fast around here in the morning getting everything ready for the day.  I wasn't moving fast this morning because I'm still sick and confined inside.  So, I can't blame my pace for not taking a picture this time.

I'll have to remember to do it soon.  Summer is coming.  This phenomena doesn't happen in the summer.  The air and the ground are both too warm to allow these magical, mythical moments then.

This is something I tell people when they ask me what I notice now in my new life on the farm.  They ask me what I hadn't anticipated to be important, yet found out otherwise.  I always tell them the weather is so much more important to me than when I had a regular office job.  It effects everything...my schedule, what I wear, my horses' health, the lessons I teach, everything.

The weather even effects these moments I've been telling you about today.  And, the weather will change these moments soon.  These foggy moments will be traded in for other miracles of nature only present in the summer, like the sunflowers that will be there between the barns standing tall in the garden.  I'll have to take a picture of those, too.

Have a wonderful day and thanks for reading.