Tonight I slipped on the old flip flops and strolled out to the pasture (aka my front yard) where the goats were greedily snatching up tender blades of grass, totally ignoring the mature shafts of fescue growing in thick clumps around them. I love this time of evening, when everyone’s fed, including me, and there’s a peaceful contentment emanating from the guts of the goats.

I took a seat among the ticks and fescue seeds, surprised to find the ground soft enough to cushion my behind and dry enough not to soak the backside of my favorite Levis. I waited for the goats to greet me and eventually Trudy noticed I was sitting there alone, had pity on me, and slowly meandered up to rub her head against my shoulder. I looked into her watery eyes and lost myself, surrendering to her wise motherly gaze.  She is my refuge from the trivialities of the day, stoic and kind among the weeds the ticks and the setting sun.

This post is linked to Simple Lives Thursday please take a minute to check out the other great posts there.