Relative Something

A day or two ago, we were on alert for another dump of snow from a winter storm the Weather Channel has named “Nyla” that will pass over us today. As of last night, the forecast was adjusted to most likely not produce blockbuster amounts of snow but will be noteworthy for its strong winds.

I am not a fan of high winds.

Yesterday, Asher and I took full advantage of the calm before the storm and lounged against the hay shed to watch the horses and listen to the pheasant squawks and the honks of low-flying goose pairs in the filtered sunlight shining through thin clouds.

Tucked up against the nook of the shed doors, the breeze was minimal, and we were able to bask in the radiating solar energy absorbed by the metal. When you know that the following day will be dramatically less inviting for such leisurely pursuits, the value of moments like that becomes noticeably heightened.

I always wonder if the horses have any inkling of the change coming our way. I try to warn them, but I suspect they are disinclined to pay much heed to my bantering.

Yesterday afternoon, when I showed up to start my routine with cleaning up under the overhang, Swings made a rare approach to my immediate space. I greeted her and carried on with my tasks. When she twice followed my movements and then finally rubbed her entire side firmly against a hay bag as she passed it, I got the message.

I set down the manure scoop and gave her a full-body scratching and loving massages. It is one of the more precious moments with these mares since they hardly ever show interest in receiving prolonged touch from us. I was also grateful to the other three for allowing us the uninterrupted time together. That is also a rare occurrence that one of them doesn’t want to nose in on another horse getting special attention.

On one of my walks with Asher earlier in the day, I took a picture that captures the orientation of all of our buildings, although the house is still mostly obscured behind trees.

It shows how the hay shed doors capture the sunlight. You can see how the barn is positioned so the overhang is protected from winds out of the northwest, both from its orientation and the fact it is tucked beneath higher ground behind it with plenty of tall trees providing additional windbreak. Just above the roofline of the hay shed is the shop garage. Uphill from that garage and directly behind the barn from this vantage point is where our house is located.

Here’s hoping no trees suffer damage from any accumulation of snow that will add stress to the pressure of the harsh winds blowing our way today.

Hang on to your hats when you’re reading this!

.

.