Relative Something

There are a variety of ways our land is impacted by an inch of rainfall, depending on the time of year and how dry or wet it was beforehand. Yesterday, that amount of rain seemed like a lot more than just an inch. It rained for most of the day. Asher was about as reluctant to go out in it as I was. We made a trek down to the barn while it was raining rather intensely in the middle of the day to retrieve empty feed buckets from the morning serving.

Asher led me back to the house without hesitation after I was done down there, not even pausing to pee. We both decided the best course of action at that point was to nap.

When the appointed hour for feeding horses in the afternoon arrived, there was a pause in the precipitation, and Asher and I took advantage of that to first walk through the woods and around the fields. The trails were like flowing rivers. Water in the drainage swale along the south border of our property was overflowing its eroded ruts.

Water draining out of the hay field was running on top of the boards that keep the riding mower wheels out of a rut.

Soggy is an understatement for the conditions during our little walk.

The horses were split between interest in eating the feed pellets I was serving up and staying with the freshly washed green grass. Can’t say I blame them.

I inadvertently made a new version of a pitchfork the other day while turning the manure pile inside the large paddock.

I’m not sure what it would be good for in this configuration, but it looks interesting. Using a long-handled tool until it gives out due to metal fatigue serves as a marker revealing you’ve been at this game for a significant amount of time.

At this point, I suspect my body is going to give out before we see the replacement fork Cyndie brought home yesterday fail. I think my back was getting dangerously close to feeling like that pitchfork looked when it cracked on me.

It’s funny how robust physical activity can be a good workout for the body while also potentially putting it at risk of failure.

A little like how rain can be beneficial for all the growing plants and creatures, but can also be so soaking that it becomes too much of a good thing. In these cases, the adage “moderation is key” becomes the advice to heed.

I can control how hard I work my body. Too bad I can’t control how much or how little rain we receive on any given day.

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