Sunset Down at the Barn

It never ceases to amaze me how when I'm outside doing manual work--mucking stalls, mowing my lawn, weeding, walking the dogs--how details emerge from the hub bub of life, gemlike, speaking of poetry that is their own. 

There's plenty of it in this beautiful valley--the granite peaks turning red and gold at sunset, the moon rising over the mountains, strands of fog caught in the rushes and marsh grasses in early morning.

This evening Niamh and I were down at the stables at sunset.  A flock of geese flew overhead, their bodies black against the dimming sky. Darkness flowed down from mountain and canyon, spreading over the fields towards us. The horses seemed wild, moving through the dark, nickering to each other before they came over to see what we were doing. My daughter's long hair gleamed gold in the lamplight as she knelt and coaxed Alice, the shy yearling, over for a pet.
 
I started helping out with barn chores one day a week in order to help Niamh earn some riding time--soon I was doing it even when she didn't go. I just wanted to be there among the horses, the fields, and the folks down there.  Barn chores are a good way to get exercise, too! I think the place reminds me of Iowa just a little bit in some ways as well--in the middle of Lindon you feel like you're out in the country.

Tasha has said this to me more than once--that caring for your horse yourself really helps you bond with the animal. I don't have my own horse right now--but every week it I get to know the horses better.

There's Souix, the big bay gelding who Niamh loves--he'll try to get out of his stall if you give him a chance so he can go socialize with the horses on his side of the barn. When you discipline him, he gets this hurt look on his face. He tolerates me, but I think he's genuinely fond of Niamh.  And Dream, Tasha's mare, is amazing. She's in her happy place when speeding around barrels. You can just feel the joy of movement and speed when you watch her. PC makes me laugh. He's so curious and wants to be around people. Shy Alice, the yearling, is just sweet. I don't know what draws me to her. Then there is the magnificent stallion, Cash--he's not tall, but he's beautifully muscled, has a great personality (Shauna has worked with him a lot), and he's gentle.

Some of these horses I was able to see when they were not even a day old yet and have watched them grow up. It's amazing to watch. If you spend enough time down at the barn, you get to know what spooks each horse, whether they are affectionate or not, what they are lazy about, what their strengths and weaknesses are.

I've watched Niamh become attached to certain horses through the years as well. She's likely to end up being a fairly tall woman and I think she'll always go for tall horses. I would imagine if I keep on riding and get close to a few horses, that I'll come to really understand how different horses and riders pair up well. Niamh has gained much confidence through riding--I believe if she's able to, she'll always have horses in her adult life somehow. As for me--well, from a young age I drew horses, drew picture books, then wrote stories about them. I read Margurite Henry's books about the ponies of Chincateague; I blazed through Walter Farley's series about the Black Stallion, sobbed my way through Flicka. Two of my sisters have had access to horses or have owned them; currently, one of my brothers has horses on his farm in Iowa. Learning to ride is something I've wanted to do for a long time and it's fun that I can share this with Niamh.

I've written several poems now over the past four years inspired by horses, the barn, and Niamh. Who'd have thought to find such poetry and peace among horse manure, hay, and dust? Works for me.