Friday, November 11, 2011

Milking by Moonlight

The time changed this week.  Milking time is now long after sunset, so I must milk in the dark.  There are many phases of dark at Thistleglade, ranging from the inky blackness of a moonless night to the shadowy silvers of the full Moon.  Each darkness brings its own essence and magic to Thistleglade and I go out with no light of my own to fully appreciate the beauty of the night.
I have enjoyed milking under the full Moon this week.  Under her light, the bare trees are once again shrouded in mystery and the shadows shift over secrets waiting to be discovered.  Dry leaves rustle in the slightest breeze and sparkle in the silvery light.  A small puddle becomes an enchanted mirror one merely has to touch to be transported to another world. 
In the dimness, sight becomes less important and the other senses expand.  As I sit on my milking stool, I notice the warmth of Tinkerbell’s smooth hide against my left cheek and the coolness of the night air on my other.  The smell of her fills my nostrils, animal but not unpleasant, along with the sweet smell of fresh milk as it squirts in the jar with ringing tones.  The cat sits on my knee hoping I'll miss, his heavy warmth accompanied with the pricking of his claws as he balances on a space too small for him.  The sounds of purring cat and munching goat blend with the rhythm of milking, creating a kind of music while the full Moon smiles down on us all.

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