On Mud and Mares

I love winter days like yesterday when it is so pleasant outside that I can be in a hoodie and sweat pants to turn out horses.

Oh, but the mud.



(photo by welliefreak on Flickr)

Squishy, yucky, mucky.
Splashy, icy, icky.

Thank goodness for mud boots.

***
My youngest took riding lessons yesterday on a sweet old gelding named Hershey.

Our mare Wixie, whom she usually rides, has been very unpredictable lately. High-strung, fearful, bucks, wants to run off on you. Is it that time of the month?

For our fourth horse, I told my husband we should only look at geldings. We women are too high-maintenance.

Why I Love Living Here

Every other fall, the farmer who plants in the field behind our house pastures his horses for a few months. Here, my girls say hi.

Sunset Posse

I took the kids to ride last night at Stable X's large, outdoor jumping arena. It was eight and already, the sun had set behind the mountains. But it was still light, the sky a pale blue like faded jeans. I sat on a chair while my three children rode their horses, each a different color: palomino, gray and chestnut, a color combination that never fails to make me think of the kids and their horses as some sort of a cool posse.

In the north sky, a three-quarter moon hung low. Somewhere in the distance, dogs barked excitedly, perhaps at their masters coming home. The cool September evening air chilled me, but not enough to warrant the hoodie tied around my waist.

My children loped around me, and I could feel their exhilaration as though I were the one sitting in their saddles.

The moon, stretches of green still for miles around me, the crisp fall air, and my three children on their horses enjoying themselves...

I felt a deep contentment settle in my bones.

How to be popular with a horse

Walk around with a container (in my case a grooming bucket) in your hand late in the evening, when it's past feeding time and they haven't been fed yet. It feels eerie to have dozens of horses stand stock still staring at you and nickering for food you can't give them.

My favorite time of day

My favorite time of day at the stables is sunset, when there's that last little bit of sun slanting from the west, and it washes everything gold; a horse swishing its tail, stirring up some dust and a little swarm of insects; nickers and neighing, and the occasional playing. Everything looks beautiful, as though suspended in time and you hate to disturb it with any noise or movement.

Dollar Ride

I've been away to Moab, Utah, with the family this week. My husband has a conference at Red Cliffs Lodge, which is one of the most beautiful desert resorts I've ever stayed at. Next door, a man runs a horseback riding ranch.

Last night, I took my kids on a little walk at dusk to see the horses. I asked the Lodge front desk if we could go pet them. I told her we were going through a little horse withdrawal (meaning, we have horses and we won't be stupid about being around them). The front-desk person said she'd prefer we didn't. I said, but there are two people out there in the pasture with the horses...

She didn't say no or yes, just said to wait during the day, the horses were enjoying their time off. I decided to take my kids anyway (my husband was off-roading) to see what we could see.

The ranch owner was untacking a three year old horse named Tuffy and tacking up a three year old named Dollar. Sierra, my oldest, asked if he named the latter after John Wayne's horse. The owner said yes, didn't she think he looked like him?

We visited a while, then the man excused himself to go train Dollar. We watched in the falling light, a man in a cowboy hat riding this young horse, doing spins and loping in endless circles, probably a good half hour before we couldn't see hardly anything anymore. It was almost ten by the time we were leaving.

That man on a horse, riding quietly in the dusk; he looked like someone who loved his job and was living his dream.