Horses in Winter

  Every winter my husband says,"If you are going to live in this country you have to embrace the winter!" This seems like sound advice considering we have winter close to nine months out of the year. But last week when he shared this bit of wisdom I said,"Go ahead I'll wait here". Last week we had several days of sub-zero temperatures. The thermometer on my back porch read -28 degrees. Add the windchill factor and it was just a tad nippy!
  One must strike a balance in Wyoming winter. If you don't go out enough, along about February a general malaise sets in and by the end of February you find yourself in a black hole that takes most of March and April to crawl out of. It's a combination of cabin fever and sun deprivation. So when my husband suggested we go up the mountain, I checked the thermometer and found that it had warmed  to a balmy 20 degrees . After securing the necessary promises that there would be no death defying deeds of derring- do (I have reasons and they are epic!), I agreed.
 White Mountain is really a plateau. It is so named I am assuming because it is lovely and white in the winter. It stretches out on the west side of the valley we live in and heads North. It was a beautifully sunny day and the light on the snow left millions of diamond sparkles that dazzled the landscape as far as the eye could see. Others had been there before us and so a trail had been broken through some of the drifts on the road. There is one particular spot where the county has erected one of many plaques that relate bits of interesting information about the landscapes that can be seen from different vantage points. It is my favorite spot because it tells me that the landscape I am looking at is bigger then the state of Massachusetts.  I have lived in Wyoming my whole life and I never take the landscape for granted. It is some of the last earth in North America that isn't covered in asphalt or concrete.

 We stopped and looked out for awhile, sipped the tea in our travel mugs and then moved on. As we came round a curve, there before us was a herd of wild horses.  It is not as though horses wild or otherwise are a unique sight in this country, but there is just something so satisfactory about seeing them in unfenced territory doing what horses do naturally.  They were relaxed and at ease and some of them lay in the road warming in the sun.  Magnificent in their woolly winter coats, they were unconcerned about us. My husband eased forward and they moved aside but didn't run They were all around us now and I looked for signs of hunger or distress and they all appeared to be in the best of health. 

 I love horses though I do not ride. An unfortunate incident when I was about six years old cured me forever. I was bucked off and never got back in the saddle.  My father was a horseman. His family were in the sheep business but they owned about two hundred head of horses in the days it was in full operation. In the last years of his life, I came into possession of dozens of pictures of "the ranch" and it's happenings. I took them to my Father to see if he could help me identify some of the people. He didn't know any of the people at all but he knew the names of the horses. Not just the names but the pedigrees, who they belonged to, and from whom they had been purchased. He loved to ride and in his youth he would ride on this very plateau on which we were currently perched.  Once I asked him,"do you miss the country Dad?" "I miss the horses" he said. So when I see horses, I always think of him and it is bitter-sweet for I miss him. 

 We watched these horses for several minutes and they became nervous that we were lingering, so they started to move along. They crossed the road in front of us and began to walk out across the desert. It was then I noticed a colt tossing his mane in the wind. In spite of the lump in my throat I laughed out loud at the antics and pure unadulterated joy of this youngster! There is something so winsome about a young horse. They can be quite narcissistic creatures. They are in love with their power and agility.  Though the wind was blowing hard enough to move the snow along the ground, he was not affected. No walking with head down and shoulders hunched, "it might as well be summer" I thought. We watched as he tossed his head and bounced about challenging us. At last he reared on his hind legs, turned, and with another toss of his head cantered off. "He's embracing winter" I said. But now when I think about it, what he was really embracing was life.