There was a series of roads and they had horse and carriages plus it was winter. I thought they were rugged and had bravery because it was cold and windy. The people and the horses must be of a different and stronger disposition, I thought. And the farm contained so many horses running freely around oh they seemed and were happy, joyous. The dogs didn’t bark at the visitors and I thought, Maybe the dogs are knowing that we are welcome and kind, so they decided to be welcoming and kind. 

The man that took us around was of few words but fair and open, straightforward. He said that things were good and I went from the outside road to the inside property but outdoor. Large wrap around porch. Many windows. No frills though. Old time. Regular building. No decadence and showing off. Just life. Farm life. Inside the buildings some cats watched on from the barn rafters and mostly I saw a black cat that seemed to be sagacious and serene even in movement. Back and forth it went after having appeared suddenly like a spirit. 

I glanced back outside. It was an overcast winter day in a town. I wondered what it would be like to live there or around there. Osho says centuries live contemporaneously and this must be true. I liked the concrete forms and the vastness and the clean cold air. There was an honesty about it all. I wanted to explore more but we were only meant to be there for a short time, a quick visit. 

Going out and saying thanks, following the roads again, there were more horses and fields and of course skies. The world was another world, not a city or town, but just lands and lands and lands. I imagined deer and coyote dens, foxes and cows, or the butterflies of summer and wild beige reeds.

 Out there must be natural magic, in the spring rains, around the summer meadow and its atmospheres, at the autumnal sounds and sights, and maybe even amidst the cold and almost bleak winters with its short days and aloof ways, but days where the horses still run around and have a joyous demeanour about them.