It was their stillness, their sense of peace that got me to stop.
I walked past them several times, my shovel loaded with manure, but Lulu and Fanny didn’t flinch. If they were braying wildly, they couldn’t have drawn my attention more.
So I put down my shovel and pressed my face to Lulu’s neck.
Her hair was warm from the sun and so much softer than it looks. I breathed in her calm, I mimicked her stillness. I fell into the trace of my surroundings. Warm, soft, still. My thoughts became the image of what I was physically feeling.
We stayed like that a while. And when I left the donkeys remained, holding the peace.