A sliver of moon dangles just above the horizon next to the brightest star I can imagine. I think of a cool Vogue model with sparkly diamond earrings and the collar of her dark blue evening coat turned up. I turn up the collar of my coveralls. Trudge toward the barn in boots you'd never see in any fashion magazine.

Four horses mill around the feeder. I fill it up. Wade into the darkness swinging my lantern calling, "Toby! Toby!" If I had neighbors, they would no doubt think I'm a very loud woman, especially this early in the morning. But at least I'm scaring that old bobcat off. And his kin.

No answer.

I trudge through the silence, through the blackness, barely able to discern the darker dark of the pinon trees when I hear chug chug chug ... whoosh whoosh whoosh slicing through the silence, down from the top of the pasture and passing somewhere near me without even a hello.

Chug chug chug whoosh whoosh whoosh.

Aroused from his sleeping or his draft horse dreaming in his favorite corner way up there where the world unfolds in amber and azure, Toby has finally heard the breakfast call.