A Fearsome Beauty: High Winter

Saturday, January 30, 2010

High Winter

Bitter, bitter cold. The horses' lives go on, zero degrees or not. I watch them picking their way over the frozen footing, browsing in their blankets, sleepy in the hard-edged air. Dar and Keely squeal, nibbling each other through the fence.

Yesterday's cold was breathtaking. Nature balances everything, though. The days are getting longer. I had the stalls picked and rebedded before dark.

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About This Journal

I began this journal to think through my experience with a mare I bought in 2004, after years away from riding, and then my start-over with a gelding I acquired in 2009. The one horse shook my confidence as a rider; I hoped to rebuild it with the other. I eventually gave back the horse I thought could help me overcome my anxiety and there before me stood again the horse with whom I choked in the first place.

It sounds like I traveled in a circle, yet not only did I change, but in 2010 I bought another horse, a kind, affectionate Appendix mare who seemed to fall from the sky. "Third time's a charm," they say. It was true for me in love, now let it be true in horses.

I strive to write truthfully about fear, doubt and tension, among other things, difficult subjects to talk about without being self-serving or cheaty. But I tend to dig deep (though it may be little more than scab picking). If you can relate to what I'm talking about, you're welcome to read along and comment whenever you like. Thanks for visiting.