Winter

Mystery.  Myth, Legend, Archetype.  There is something about the deep cold of winter that sets my soul in a peculiar place.  I can sense a power, a force, and it is awesome and dangerous.


Not a lot of snow this year, like there was last year, but it is still in the single digits and below zero with the wind chill.  The wind will pick up tonight, or tomorrow morning early before we wake.  I often say my horses are fine to 30 below...well, we are pushing it.


I have rearranged the herd so that each one can get into shelter.  No one is left outside, and I won't have to go collect one to put in the old barn like last year.  I thought Dove was going to knock down her new oak stall door last night, but she finally got it and settled down.


Each morning for the last two, and probably for the next two, I go over and thaw out the pressure tank so the water will flow from the hydrant and I can water the four across the street.  If I put a bucket outside for them it freezes in a couple of hours.


I am tired.  I sleep lightly in this weather.  I listen for the wind, and for banging from the barn.  Horses accustomed to being at liberty in the pasture don't always keep well in a stall.


Nine horses for a 59 year old man might be a little much.  It taxes my strength.  I think I will give this horse breeding a few more years.  Only one baby last year, and only one this year.  I will try for at least three in 2016.  I have the room, the stalls, the pasture, and the hay.  To bring a handful of special horses into this world seems to be my dream.  Has been and still is. 


That and riding the shore to shore.  But more on that later.