I made a couple of enchilada casseroles tonight, enough so I don’t have to cook for a couple of days. Just toss together a salad and we’re good. I popped them in the oven and went down (because it’s downhill) to give the horses their ‘bucket’.

The bucket being their nightly dessert of beet pulp, senior chow and supplements. Mmmm…yum.

Well, it is to them.

I  wish I’d brought my camera. It was dark, the only light came from the hay shed. And it did wonderful things. Outlined the ponies’ backs. Cast long shadows. Long, like fifty feet. Or maybe only thirty. Really, I’m just guessing.

Leaves were dropping in the woods. At first I thought it was pinecones because they were so loud. But there were too many of them. One right after the other. And then one crispy leaf landed almost at my feet. Amazing how much noise such a fragile little thing can make.

Lots of sounds. Horses munching. A dog barking somewhere down the canyon. Those leaves. Peepers in the meadow.

I leaned against my boy, belly to belly while he ate. We’ve been together 16 years now. Old friends. Comfortable. It was chilly and his warmth felt good. From the corner of my eye I could see a bat swooping after whatever bats swoop after, disappearing in and out of the light. It always surprises me how fast they move. And how erratic. I’ve learned not to flinch but just ignore them.

Thirty minutes of quiet down-time. Thirty minutes to breathe deep (ah, smell the ponies!) and unwind. Thirty minutes to just be. Like a meditation.

It’d been a good day in the studio. A couple of paintings. A bunch of prep work for more paintings. And now I was done with art for the day. Really. D.O.N.E.  Pony time was a nice transition. And after that…dinner. And family.

Even if they were watching football.