I was working in the equine paddock while Martyn was putting up boards in the new barn addition-the goal being that the horses won't eat the barn siding. We still have to paint with no chew, a task I hate, I admit.
But I wanted to try to explain this moment, in words. Sometimes it is hard to find the right words to describe a moment that encompasses the past, present and future.
White Dog loves Martyn. He loves men, loves my farrier too. He likes women, but I see his response to Martyn. White Dog has a different relationship with Martyn than he has with me. When Martyn comes out, it is special, where as I am there every day multiple times. White Dog loves to be with Martyn when he works. Sometimes it is problematic, and not so safe if power tools are involved. But this job he was able to be right at Martyn's side...so happy, so content. And I caught a series of photos that slayed me, this one being the most emotive.
It was one of those moments where as you are experiencing it, it propels you to a very spiritual and emotional place, a place of understanding the grace of the moment, the beauty of it, and the fact that it is a moment that is fleeting. It's fleeting because life is fleeting and one day you wake up alone, or in a home, or you lose your mind. I know that is rather grim, but it is the truth we face as we age. It was a moment where in seconds I prayed White Dog would live many more years and that Martyn would stay healthy, and that we would be okay, and be together and not be separated in old age.
The beauty of aging is that you do respect these moments even more viscerally than in your youth. I certainly had many intense moments of realizing I was witnessing something beautiful and profound. But as I add another year in my early sixties these moments just become more profound and special. Sometimes, I hear a voice in my head–my voice–say,