Saturday, August 27, 2016

Curious Horses

"Animals hold us to what is present; to who we are at the time, not who we've been or how our bank accounts describe us.

What's obvious to an animal is not the embellishment that fattens our emotional resumes but what's bedrock and current in us: aggression, fear, insecurity, happiness, or equanimity.

Because they have the ability to read our involuntary ticks and scents, we're transparent to them and thus exposed-

We're finally ourselves."

-Gretel Ehrlich, The Solace of Open Spaces



Tuesday, August 9, 2016


When the hearts of the givers are filled with hate, their gifts are small.

Chief Plenty Coups, Crow, 1848

I went looking for Cloud.
The wild stallion who lives in an isolated corner of the Rocky Mountains known as the Arrowhead's, near the Pryor Mountain range.
I thought about this place I had come to, and all the horses I've read about who live there. It is Indian country.

Ginger Kathrens named a blue roan stallion Plenty Coups in honor of the last Crow Indian chief.

I felt the sacredness in the crags and nooks of the ancient rocks. I sensed their secrets. I smelled mustangs.

But, I didn't see Cloud that day.
Even through binoculars, not a single horse was spotted.
But, I did see a family of Big Horn sheep.
Janis is still belting out her songs through my stereo.
Track #11 Maybe is my new favorite.
Annie Oakley?
Mustang Sally?
Well, what'd ya know. This old broad passed her Zoo and Wildlife Medicine training exam. I am now certified to administer the birth control PZP into wild mare's on the range. Allowing them to have only one foal per lifespan is a good thing.
I can't emphasize this enough.
Our friend Beast is alive and well! Since he doesn't seem to mind my presence, I hope to dart his mares so his family can remain wild and free.
With a little help from his friends.
One of Beast's main squeezes.
Little Green, Beast's new filly.
Chad always finds me stuff on the prairie that I scream & shout about.
This is Pronghorn shed butt fur.
And a deer antler and sun bleached ribs of an unknown.
Mop head.
We call him Luna.
He is as special as any illuminating moon that ever came up.
You should see his battle scars!
Luna's close knit family.
A poem from
This Human Shape
By Chad Hanson
A meeting of the minds. This band loved Chad.
They came up to him. I heard him talk to them...they responded.
One of my dearest friends had a baby boy. I tie dyed this infant shirt for him.
From his hippie "aunt."
One of Chaka's kids stopped by for a treat. Her saga and habit lives on.
Siesta time for Skye.
(It's always siesta time for Skye)
I snuck this sunflower seed in..
Chad: "I wonder how that got there?"
Sherpa's new sleeping arrangement. Table and chair.
While visiting a friend in Cody, we drove past this road.
It reminded me of a certain Alaskan fur baby.

Here is the mud, and there is the lotus that grows out of the mud.

We need the mud in order to make the lotus. ~ Thich Nhat Hanh