Fog and Spiderwebs
Mornings are never boring around here. Today, sometime around 6AM, I heard Faith (the neighbor's German shepherd) barking loudly. It could mean a coyote or fox was trotting through their property - or it could mean a very large black beast named Merlin was.
You guessed it. Merlin.
He tests the fence all fall. Winter is coming and if he can sneak out to feast on apples and richer grasses who can blame him? But with hunting season here and the general necessity to keep livestock contained, he needs to stay in their paddock. I walked outside with a metal bucket with grain and a halter and lead rope. As I walked down th road in one direction towards the neighbor's apple trees he was already coming home from up the road. I wasn't far from home when I heard the hoot of a barred owl and know it was Shannon telling me he was home. As I walked back onto the road I saw the beastly boy standing with her in the front lawn, waiting for that grain he heard rattling in a bucket. Shannon put on the coffee and I went back to finishing up chores and returning Houdini to his girlfriend.
We found the spot where he escaped, repaired the bit of electric poly rope he pushed through. We reconfigured that area, made it stronger and removed the troublesome corner.
Now I'm back inside working on my day's goals and to-do list. I am hoping for $200 in sales every day to catch up on the September mortgage. It should be ready soon, but the costs of going into winter are high and with several hundred going towards hay, firewood, farrier, and Friday's vet bills (tested her thyroid this month) it's been tight - but let me tell you this much for free - a lot better than when I was by myself. Soon that house payment will be off and I'll be enjoying October knowing I am caught up and sinking into the joy of fall even harder. For example: fog and spiderwebs.
As we walked through the woods to find where Merlin escaped the forest was thick with fog. The sun was out and burning through in rays, lighting up the yellows, reds, and oranges of the trees. It was stunning. And the light and water perfectly caught the magic of the wild webs and sometimes I can do nothing more than stand there and accept that this beauty is here, impermanent, and perfect.