Water from the spring gurgles and spits.
A dog in the distance barks.
Crickets on the ground sing "Chirp."
There's a low hum of traffic on the roads in the distance.
An airplane flies high overhead, and the engine's growl booms down.
Sun lays on my exposed skin warming it before, during, and after the breeze chills it.
The horses rip up the few short blades of grass left underfoot.
The gray across the drive stands watching every move we make.
Her head stays off the ground.
Her ears stand up straight.
She's silhouetted against the blue sky that has only a hinting of white clouds dusting it.
Boo Boo puts his head between two wires to graze on the other side of the strongly built fence.
They twang as he twists his head back inside the field.
My saddlebags filled with treats, brushes, halter, and rope lay abandoned in the farthest corner of the field.
Ignored by the nosey horses today.
The hills are a solid, soft green.
Horses on the other hillside stand scattered.
All graze but one who cribs on the fence.
Levi sticks his head out of the field to eat.
The pond settled between the fields reflects the green hillside and blue sky on its surface.
Ducks swim from one side to the other.
The gray sneezes.
She wants to know the horses across the drive, but the fence stops her crossing.
A car rumbles down the driveway, crunching each piece of gravel under its tires.
The dogs bark their greeting.
The driver gives a friendly wave "Hello."
A small bird in the trees chirps and chirps.
None are in the sky.
The horses' joints crack as they slowly move down the hill.
Their feet make light sounds as they move to a new patch of grass.
They move closer together and further apart trying to find the best grass to eat.
At the top of the field I feel completely alone.
I can't see anyone else.
As I follow the horses moving down, I start to see more of the buildings and remember I'm never alone here.
Hammering starts on a tree.
I can't see the woodpecker anywhere.
Thump thump thump thump.
Thump thump thump thump.
The only smell is the clean, crips, cool, fresh air.
I breath it in.
Leaves crunch under the horses' feet.
Lips move them aside, ever searching for a good blade of grass.
Some search systematic.
Some are more random in their search.
They sniff at the ground to see if any grass is as sweet as it was in Spring.
They do not like when others start getting too close to their patch of grass,
but they do not want them too far away either.
I sigh and swing my saddlebags onto my shoulder
and walk back down the drive to put them away
and start my car to get on with the rest of my day.