The night-feed is my favorite. In the summer, the sky and clouds are as gaudy as the underwear department at the dollar store. If they have an underwear department, which I’m a little proud that I don’t know. The light loiters over the pond, as my farm exhales the day and rolls it to … Read more
It’s February on the high prairie at the fringe of the Rocky Mountains. The pond is still frozen so there is an unnatural quiet, no bird chatter, no wings in the sky. After months of feeling that light is somehow a product of ice lighting the ground, the sun feels just a bit warm again. … Read more
Our horses are not young, neither are we. We negotiate with winter, bartering against the wind that our horses might have shelter, might have this small farm to hold them. We’re hostage to them, more than they are to us. We make ourselves useful, driving to town to take jobs caring for others to … Read more
“Egads, stand back! It’s spring and all those flighty chestnut Arabians are reactive nut cases. Afraid of everything. Downright dangerous. Whoa, now. Settle down, big fella!” Spring can be an unsettling time. Yes. I take blog requests and this is the big complaint. Really, year-round, but it’s especially fresh with post-hibernation hung-over indignation … Read more
When people hear I live in Colorado they often get a romantic look on their faces. I shake my head, “It’s not that Colorado.” It’s February on the High Plains of Colorado. Due to low precipitation and an elevation of almost 7000 feet, the High Plains experience gusty winds and extremes in temperature. But at … Read more
Just a bi-ped with a muck fork
The last storm drove on all night long, bouncing and rattling every loose end. Once it was finally still and we could all stop bracing, the horses laid down to rest and I peeled my shoulders away from my ears.