The Reindeer Keeper

  I was hanging clothes out on the clothesline the other day when I noticed something moving in a field across the road. I couldn't figure out what it was, so I went inside the house for my phone and told Brian I'd be right back. As I crossed the road, I still couldn't figure out what it was until "it" moved. What I'd seen was the top of a hat. I discovered it was worn by an artist from New Jersey, Catherine Whitehead. She travelled here to participate in Morristown's Plein Air event. I could only see the top of her hat because she was sitting in the field, painting. The field was a collage of beautiful, colorful wildflowers swaying in the gentle breeze. When I think about it, such a scene is repeated alongside so many of our country roads. After introducing myself, I learned this artist was infatuated with the fields drenched in purples and yellows and oranges and shades of white and green. Catherine Whitehead was delightful. Very welcoming despite my int

  These two caught my eye as I drove by. The goat was following the horse. Something made me turn around and stop my car. I watched as the horse led the goat from one spot to another. When the goat was lagging behind, the horse would stop and wait, turning around to see where the goat was, patiently waiting for his friend. They seemed to be on a mission. I got the feeling this was not a chance meeting. They appeared to have a close relationship. Walking about that field looked to be a routine thing they did together. The horse was the leader, watching over his friend. The goat seemed appreciative, running at times to catch up. Traffic was pretty heavy. First a tractor with a friendly farmer giving me a wave went by. Then an Amish buggy with a young couple and two little ones, curiously smiling, waved back at me as they continued on their way. The longer I sat there the more I realized the horse and the goat were like good friends meeting up in the morning. Going for a cup of coffee. Ca