Saturday I was reminded yet again that the great majority of time I live in a world of my choosing.

I spent the morning puttering around the house, cleaning, sorting, and organizing a bit – trying to set right some of the chaos that had occurred from cooking for Thanksgiving, the following day’s marathon cookie bake, and the mosaic project that is spread across my dining room table.

Into the Fray

I needed a few more supplies for the mask I was working on, so decided to venture out into the post-Thanksgiving-holiday-shopping-frenzy. If you hear the music from the movie Jaws cueing up right about now, you’d be right on the money!

The parking lot at Michael’s was full. I had to drive around several minutes to find a slot to park, all the while arguing with myself that maybe I should turn around and go home, But just as the argument in my head was winning, a car pulled out, leaving me a place. I’ll just run in and get my things,” I told myself. “How bad can it be?” More music.

Think about this. It was Michael’s for Pete’s sake, On Thanksgiving weekend. But I kept going. The store was jam-packed with Christmas. And people. Apparently there was a special coupon offer that had to be redeemed before noon. So thousands of my crafting compatriots and I jostled each other around huge displays of silk poinsettias, ornaments, toys, and at least a million other holiday items.

No Problems

To their credit, the staff was helpful and friendly, still feeling the after effects of the triptophan from their turkey dinners I suspect. So I got in and out without any major disaster. A woman waiting in line behind me wasn’t so lucky. Her arms were full of tubes of wrapping paper and she nearly took out a display of gingerbread house baking kits. I whispered a quick thank you that it wasn’t me, and then hustled to my car, and home. I had horses to feed.

No Holiday Music Anywhere

That’s when the contrast became abundantly clear. The pasture was an oasis of calm. Horses lay snoozing in the sun. The hum of cars along I-25 was distant enough to be soothing – almost meditative. It was a golden afternoon, the sun warming me enough that I shed my heavy jacket.

I had to feed in shifts because Miss Pepper was right at the gate and Bud was nowhere to be seen. I let her out first and she started on her pan of grain. If you’ve never listened as a horse munches through a pan of food, you really must try it. It’s one of the most rhythmic sounds I know.

And so soothing.

I sat on the edge of the car and drifted along in my own state of meditation while Pepper munched away. My shopping experience became a distant memory.

When Pepper finished, I let her into the pasture and went in search of Bud. He and the rest of the herd of oldsters were at the far end of the pasture, any farther and it would have been at the northern edge of Denver. Okay, that’s a slight exaggeration, but it was a good hike. I didn’t mind, because it was such a glorious day. I breathed in the crisp autumn air, felt the sun on my back and was blessed by the call of a hawk flying overhead. The tension that had built up in me over the past few busy days melted away as I walked across that field.

Yes, that's a glove hanging on the irrigation line. It cracked me up so I'm sharing!

I know it sounds a bit over the top, but honestly it was a transcendent afternoon. I slowed down, and settled into myself. It was exquisite to be so focused on that particular moment.

Bud came out and started on his pan of grain. And I let Pepper join him. She grazed while Bud ate.

And of course, I handed out snacks to the rest of the herd who entertained me at the fence line. Chickadee, Baby, Amigo and Red were all there.

Deep breath.

Big sigh.

Just what the doctor ordered.