Relative Something

*this* John W. Hays’ take on things and experiences

Micro Climates

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This morning while walking the trails with Delilah instead of lingering in bed to write this blog post, (because Cyndie is gone for 10-days to Guatemala visiting Dunia and family, helping guide some equine-assisted seminars while there) I was struck anew by how different our property is in as little as a few feet separation.

In the woods, the prominent grouping of trees change from oaks and maples to butternut and poplar. The trail transitions from hard soil to mossy to grassy to muddy to sticks and dirt.

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I paused to take a picture of a spot that grows a beautiful carpet of medium-length grass and Delilah photobombed it. I like it!

Popping out of the woods, suddenly we are walking beside open fields, each that have their own characteristics of differing grasses, prominent weeds, and volunteer trees trying to grow. Of course, we also have paddocks with horses in them.dscn5336e

Cayenne had isolated herself away from the rest of the herd by grazing a spot that dead-ended around the round pen and she was making her way back to the paddock upon noticing Delilah and I approaching. I figured the morning feed was her priority, but when dog and I came around the bend I found her nose to nose with Hunter.

He received her invitation and they set about grooming each other before coming up to eat the morning serving from their feed pans.

Standing with the horses, the muddy trail at the bottom of the hill in the woods seems like it must be miles away.

It is only a minute away by foot.

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Written by johnwhays

October 22, 2016 at 9:35 am

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