One day in Vermont, while half our friends were napping and our husbands were hiking part of the Appalachian Trail, my friend and I spent a lazy afternoon visiting Taylor farm, a 180 year-old working dairy farm. We wandered among the goats and bunnies, were charmed by hungry cows and a friendly donkey, and wondered why pigs seem to love lying around in smelly mud—to cool off, I’ve since learned. Chickens roamed freely, and as we admired their speckled feathers, a couple of roosters got into a spat, which was fascinating to see.
In a stroke of luck, we happened by a few farm workers who’d gathered around a guitar and a drum, and were singing folk and country songs. My friend bought a cold beer, and we sat in the sun on the porch, enjoying the breeze and the affections of a farm cat, as the men next to us harmonized to John Denver.