Why I Am Here

Max is draped across my lap, sleeping and beside me Diesel is snuggled into the folds of a blanket, also sleeping. I would leave them there if I could, just go on with reading but the time has come to go out to the barn. Early on, I could hear Ambra and Sierra out there, chewing on their stalls, banging their buckets; boredom, hunger, a little of both, demanding some attention. I pick up Max's little relaxed body and he hangs limply from my hands, only opening his eyes slightly as though to ask "how could you?" as I tucked him in beside Diesel.

At this time of year, it is layer upon layer upon layer, before you can step out the door. In the barn, the frost glistens on the window panes, and the horses breath is visible like a small fog bank that hangs around their noses, freezing on their whiskers and underfoot, the nights mess is frozen solid and it is like walking on scattered marbles. Ambra comes out first, and as we step into the sunshine from the gloom of the barn, her head comes up and she stares off at the hills and trees that lay along the back of the fields. Walking out to her paddock, her step is lighter and I can feel her energy like a barely contained charge of electricity. Even as I unsnap the lead rope, she realizes she is free and leaps forward, touching the ground so lightly that she almost seems not to make contact. Round and round, up the hill and back down again.

The new days sun shines low above the trees, casting long blue shadows across the fields and as she throws herself down on the hilltop to roll and roll again, she kicks up a cloud of fine, dry, soft snow and the light catches it and it sparkles and glitters as though she is some small and lovely creature caught in the tiny contained world of a snowglobe. Now done with that and back on her feet, she looks back expectantly at the barn, wondering why Sierra has not come out yet to join her in this revelry. So I turn back to the barn and going into Sierra's stall, I can feel that she also suffers from the same level of excitement and joyfulness that had overtaken Ambra. Once freed, she too runs and romps, floating over the snow in that lovely high Arab trot, tail waving high like a flag over her back, that always takes my breath away. She cruises back and forth in front of me, bucking occassionally, then turning to face me. Her neck is arched, and her eyes bright as she stares straight at me and takes a few steps forward, only to turn again and fly along the fence line with Ambra keeping pace on the other side. And as I stood in the sunshine and the snow, feeling the cold against my face and watching them enjoy their life, one more time, I had the thought that moments like this are why I am here.

("You cannot do a kindness too soon, because you never know how soon it will be too late"
Ralph Waldo Emerson )

Photo by: Rian Houston of Colorado