A Day at the Farm

As we load up the car, I pause for a moment to breathe in the chilly winter air.  The sun is shining against a pale blue sky that only Winter can deliver.  I take a mental inventory upon an exhale.  Chilly days require a myriad of extras.  With the kids bundled tight and my jacket on my back, we crank up the car and ease out onto the road. 

Traffic is light on this holiday in our little suburban town.  The drive is not far but there is plenty of life swirling around us on the frigid wind.  We head east toward my daughter's favorite place of solitude.  The farm is not ours, but for the several hours we spend there, it feels like our slice of the world.  We are in our element among the elements. 

I reach the little winding road offset by wagon wheels.  It is the perfect welcome sign.  We roll for a brief stint through the woods until we emerge at the stables.  She bounds out of the car while my calls of "do you have your helmet and chaps?" echo behind her.  She is off through the fields searching for the little pony that could.  Left behind like a bellhop, I amass our necessities and trudge into the stable.  The baby hangs from my chest carrier while the ball on his little red snow cap tickles my nose.  I meet my daughter in the stable's alley.  She is leading her favorite speckled paint by his halter.  The aroma of dirt, hay and horse immediately soothe my tension, as I settle into the surroundings.  The huffs and puffs of the other stabled ponies echo their jealousy, as everyone can definitely sense the love shared between my daughter and her steed. He is a muddy mess from rolling in the dirt and grass.  I sometimes wonder if he does this simply to prolong the feeling of the curry comb as she sets to work in cleaning his coat. 

With the pony sparkling and the tack in place she heads to the ring.  I recall times gone by where this would overwhelm me with a maternal sense of imagined falls and created worries.  These days... I can just ease back and take in the beauty of the moment.  The two of them using their muscles in unison to choreograph a beautiful dance around the ring.  Horse and rider parade around the rail at varying paces, bounding over cross rails.  With my son snuggled to my chest, gently snoring, I lean back on the fence and inhale the day.  This precious moment that repeats itself weekly has become such a source of stillness to me.  These are the moments in life that let my spirit soar.