Well, more heat, more wind, more smoke, but it did turn cooler last night and it's fairly fresh this mornin'.
Gotta say it's tricky writin' about my life out here and the horses; same like any "news" outlet, I suppose. Ya never wanta turn it into a sideshow, where the story's more important than the critters, myself included. The horses, myself, we're livin', breathin', feelin' critters and I sure don't wanta forget "that" importance. And that might sound kinda melo dramatic, but, for myself, it's that sense, alone, that makes all the sense.
It's kinda like my uncertainty about tellin' that story yesterday. I was thinkin' on "why?", and considered my concern, that anyone put the safety of their horse, second to some adventure, that might turn into a "good story". But, it's just my love for the critter. Since I was young, the horse always seemed to be far more present and intelligent than the humans I encountered. And, later workin' with young horses, when ya start ta see and feel them trustin' ya like they do, dam, ya just gotta consider, what a huge and tender thing that is and somewhere deep inside, ya start wonderin' about the meanin' of "holy". And, maybe, by and large, "people" are apt consider that yer pretty much ready for the "funny farm", but, 'tween me and any sense I have of "creator", play fast and loose, with that kinda trust, that'd be thin ice.
That horse I was talkin' about, yesterday, I got him up in Utah, when I was workin' with an old friend; a fine old horseman, got me started on the young horses. I wanted ta get a horse I could work on all by myself; always figured there's no better way ta learn, than makin' yer own mistakes. (And livin' with 'em). We found him in a pen, knee deep in mud and manure, scared ta death, as the folks that owned him didn't understand a lot and most a the backward ideas they'd tried, only left him lookin' for some hole in the ground or fence, that he might crawl into and disappear or die. Anyway, long story short, despite, some a my mistakes and limited resources, we had ta travel together in a pickup truck with a stock wrack, that's a cage like deal, slips into the bed a the pickup, by the point a that story yesterday, he had come a million miles in trust and still wasn't, too sure. But, this might give ya some sense a my appreciation for his effort and try and my concern for gettin' him into a bad jam, "because" he trusted.
I just believe that trust is a huge and powerful thing. Abuse it and you play with the very fabric of life. Cultivate it and ya start ta discover the sweetest and richest belongin'.
Have a great day!