The Peace of Wild Things. newdharmabums.blogspot.com.

When despair grows in me
and I wake in the middle of the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting for their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

~ Wendell Berry

Big soft snuffling nose. Alfalfa sweet breath. Who would have thought that a young, goofy draft horse would be such a wonderful friend? I am very content in the company of this beautiful wild thing.