We will be denied spring, it seems. I think the planet is irritated, restless and impatient with the hive of lives that squirm over her endlessly. Yesterday's weather was unseasonably harsh, all aggression and turbulence, gnashing and blowing. Not so long ago, this would have severely limited what I could do with my horses, but not now. I spent an easy five hours in the barn, where time moved naturally, invisible and never intruding.
There stood Scout, slimming fast on a new diet, relaxed and bright eyed, happy to be involved with her people. She likes her new home, and it's bringing out a side of her I haven't seen in some time, the curious open-eyed red mare who charms. Freshly groomed and calm in the cross ties, she watched me filling water buckets. The wind skidded meanly over the roof of the barn, but we were snug far below.
There was a high rider reconnoitering the rafters. "Cow Pie," I call her. She's a bit lardy, but no less of an acrobat for it. She kept us distant company, exploring the heights, stopping every now and then to watch and be near, but not too near.
There was the little filly, almost two weeks old, shy of humans right now, squealy and petulant when handled, but obviously irresistible. I went in and gave her overlooked mom some straight-on TLC with my curry comb and body brush.
And there was Horse Boot Camp 101, conducted in the wide aisle of the barn. Lessons in picking the hoof and leading the horse, saddling the horse and sitting on the horse. My thespian student is eager and happy. I spent some time teaching him the finer nuances of picking stalls. Ha!
Throughout, the sound outside was amazing, built of powerful clashes of rain and roaring wind, but in the barn I felt like I was idling on a lovely island, surrounded by peaceful, dozy horses and fat barn cats. I thought of how life can sometimes assault and intrude, prevent, complicate and exhaust, and it was as if the weather was mirroring exactly that, only in vain, truly in vain, for yesterday the peace and richness of being with horses would not be disturbed, could not be disturbed.
Tomorrow, Saxony moves in. It will be a wonderful thing, long overdue.