Thankfulness, Day 5

Today I’m thankful for … our back yard and the cow pasture beyond.

Why? Because it’s so dark back there, you can go outside on a cloudless night and see a gazillion stars surrounding the big, shiny moon.

When the sun is just coming up, you can look out and see a mist across the entire stretch of land. Eventually, this scene gives way to daylight and, a few hours later, a harvest glow at sunset. Then as evening falls again, the moon shines down on the pasture, and the land seems to glow.

Sunrise, sunset, moonrise. At every stage of the day, it’s magical.

Some days I think God created that pasture just for me. This was especially true on the Fourth of July, when we were too tired to go to the river to watch any official fireworks show. I wandered out to the back yard in the dark and realized I had happened out there just in time for my own private fireworks display, above the row of trees that borders “our pasture.” Salsa and I enjoyed the show while Bruce and Pepper napped inside. (I don’t believe in coincidence, so I know that the light show was God’s special gift to me after several weeks of hard work.)

Salsa and I often enjoy sunrises together, too. We are the early risers. And we enjoy the fireflies together in the evenings. We had so many fireflies this summer it didn’t seem fair to the rest of the world. Surely we possessed them all in our little back yard.

I love sparkly, shiny things.

That’s probably why I also enjoy the trains.

Beyond the border of trees at the edge of the pasture is where the trains pass by. I love to listen to a distant train at night, and as the trains approach our pasture, you can see the lights reflect off the trees, illuminating the night sky. Another glowy display, accompanied by a lonesome sound that countless songwriters have tried to capture in words.

The trains are music to me. And so are the cows. To me.

To my furbabies, however, the cows are a different story. The Spice Dogs don’t look on the cows as benevolent creatures. The girls make their own kind of music when the cows come home. When the evil bovines get too close to the fence, Salsa and Pepper let them know they should back off – or else!

The cows don’t seem to listen, though. They don’t seem to mind the “music” my furbabies make when they’re sounding a warning.

The big guys just chew their grass and meander away when they’re finished.

The girls may not like it, but I love it.

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