The Barn, a night in this artist's life

The Barn At Night
Unable to sleep, the whole night has crept closer to dawn and the dogs' snoring has become annoying, no longer that white noise I needed to sleep. "It's not easy being green," just what does that mean? Green such as the color or green? Or green as in environmental practices? Perhaps it is like the "Sound Of Grass Growing At Night," an out of the box phrase to call on the creative instincts of the artist. No matter what it means it is costing me good sleep as my mind flashes images of Kermit the frog to solar and wind power. Even a 7-up can at the bottom of some lovely babbling brook in the forest, a green glint of sun bouncing off that can and reflected back towards the heavens. Once the mind starts there is no slowing it. "Just shut up" I whispered at the soundly sleeping dog in the dark. Like that dog could have heard me anymore then I could see that black Labrador, Pandora, snuggled in the jostled blankets on the bed in the darkness. My feet found the floor as I groped and found my empty water glass, a drink of water just might help I thought. I opted not to turn on the light, no need to wake my bed partners for my lack of sleeping ability. Glugg glugg, a huge bubble of air thumped against the plastic five gallon cooler bottle, I squeezed that spigot harder and watched the water flow into the glass. It was so loud that my busybody mare at the barn heard me up, her nicker sounded in the darkness and of course that rattle of metal bars followed as she struck the fence with her front foot in her defiant demand for attention. Sassy-Brat, she had been appropriately named, like most mares she could have the "tude." People who are not in the company of horses think that the stallion is the ruler of his herd, nope! Mares, the lead mare to be more exact, makes all the decisions and establishes the chain of command, that stallion is just kept around to donate semen and run off predators. When your daily life is with horses you can not keep from learning their ways. It is interesting how others who are not horse people interpret horse's actions; even their calls have a tone and language. I walked slowly in the dark as I picked my path to the barn carefully, barefooted was not the brightest of choices, but my footgear was in the bedroom and I knew the dogs would get startled if I retrieved them. All that barking would wake the dead. As I reached the feed room I switched on the light and voiced a soft hello to Sassy as she greeted me at her gate. Pressing my palm against the wire her exhale felt warm and moist as she pushed her muzzle to my hand. I sipped my water and we both stood together in the night, peaceful companions. I could tell it would be dawn soon, that light was on the horizon now and my eyesight was much keener. I could now make out Poe, he had been clanking in his cage and chuckled in that raven voice of his, followed by his clicking like the latch on the stall doors. Poe poe poe poe, he whispered softly. I had said that to him thousands of times as I had fed that injured fledgling while I stuffed his craw with enriched ground round. Poe had been raised in the house but as he grew he had become very messy, being a carrion eater he loved to let his meat ripen, not a smell I cherished for a room freshener. So now Poe has a large flight cage by the barn and he very much enjoys making all the barn noises, he is very good at it and chuckles often over his performances. Beware little children; I should make a sign for Poe's cage as he loves to sucker them into poking a finger through the wire. "Ah a little worm just for me", as the child runs off crying, Poe chuckles. I think ravens are smart, Poe is. Walking back to the barn proper, I stopped at the first stall. Quietly I peeked in on Chexy with this years foal; we call Pockets, both resting in the stall together. I started past Shug's stall and she nickered asking for a bit of feed, I stopped and kissed her soft lip as she pressed it through the bars, which looked like a camels lip. Lingering a little longer to take in the smells of the barn and the damp night air I could hear the noises of the world around me waking, our rooster crowed in his rough raw call, not very pretty sounding like that cock-a-doodle-do you expect, but still I can hear the beginning of distant road noises of those driving long distances to get to jobs in big crowded cities. I peered into my glass, now empty and thought "It's not easy being green," that was a strange statement and I felt the need to do some sketching, the light was now fully dawn and my barefoot path-picking was much easier.