Dispatches from the Horse Farm: Orange Azaleas & A Horse with No Name

I arrived at the farm just in time for King’s Day on April 27th, and the universe clearly understood the assignment because the azaleas right near my cabin burst into the most gorgeous, vibrant orange.

Living on a farm means sharing space with some incredible personalities, and lately, I’ve been spending time with two very different souls.

First, there’s Normwell. He is friendly, deeply sensitive, and absolute sucker for nose rubs.

And then... there is the horse with no name.

He’s a wild one, a bit shell-shocked by life. He has this habit of rubbing his head against a tree to force his hair down over his eyes, using his mane as a shield against the flies. He mostly ignores the world, but he responds to music. When the right notes hit, he tunes in, even when he's shutting everything else out.

Finding inspiration in the quiet (and the wild) moments this month.