Saturday Morning Feeding

Dew forming on the blades of grass in the pasture.  Steam rises from the ground, making way to a dense fog that will dissipate in a matter of hours.  Birds herald the rising of the sun.  The morning is aglow as the Earth begins to stir.

Then,

Footsteps.

Soft rubber soles sleepily make their way across the crushed stone.  Small pebbles crunching underfoot as the human comes to do the early morning feeding.  A pause, silence, then a lumbering solid wood door rolls wide open.  A soft warm glow floods the aisle as a dozen heads perk up and emit a low nickering chatter.

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A few drawn out moments, buckets rustle full of grain, heightening the mood of the eager clientele.   One circles his stall, one whinnies a shrill impatient warning, and from the end of the barn comes a demanding clamor as steel shoe meets wooden door.  In the monotonous minutes to follow the raucous fades to a satisfied munching; no one forgotten.

One by one each stall door roars open and hoof-beats happily make towards the morning air.  Brisk and bright the world energizes the equines; the pasture welcomes its daytime guests.  The day has begun once again on the farm.  Like clockwork they’re fed timely every morning; but if you ask the horses, they’ll tell you their breakfast was long overdue.

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This was another installment of Stream of Consciousness Saturdays.  If you’d like to read more blogs participating or join the fun yourself please visit LindaGHill.comsocs-badge-2017-18-e15030970847781

 

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6 Comments

  1. This was really beautiful – thank you for joining us today. Another bucket of oats all around, by way of bonus points for you. I enjoyed sharing the sense of a foggy start to an otherwise normal day, but one I would find amazing.

    Liked by 1 person

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