I take a book out to the barn. I sit in the sun. I watch the green trees against the blue sky. I listen to the horses chew their breakfast hay. I drink my morning Coke. I pat the dog. I smell the hay, and wood, and grass, and dirt of a barn. My barn. It is enough. I am happy.
My inner jump rider howls in frustration.
Thank you for reading,
Katherine Walcott
Virtual Brush Box 
Do you contradict yourself? Very well, you contradict yourself. You are large, you contain multitudes. With apologies to Walt Whitman.
🙂