Under the Full Moon
Tonight I found the donkeys curled up in bundles along the fenceline of the pasture just outside the front door. Without even thinking I threw on boots and a jacket, grabbed some pears and opened the gate to feed them and scratch a few velvet ears and noses. Because I can, now. Even at 10pm. Without a flash light. Just me and a herd of over-fed, spoiled asses. Under a full moon bright enough that our shadows stretched out to the cedar trees.
Then I came inside and took this picture of a door made in 1905 that’s hanging on the closet of a new house in 2012. The door is from a rural town in Texas where it’s likely its first owner walked into his own pasture at night and fed the animals by moonlight.
