May 14, 2022
As the sun set and the air cooled, Grace and Skye ventured out to note the moon's position on the horizon. Spotting Skye, a pair of ravens came, ever hopeful for a handout. Tomorrow night, the moon would rise already involved in a total eclipse. Grace reckoned it would be like nothing they had ever seen, and she did not want to miss it. The ravens continued to circle. "I wish I could feed the birds" Skye lamented. "I know. Maybe when these coyotes move off you can again." "Do you think they'll move off?" "Well...no. They'll always be close. But I think their den is really close this year." The western sky still glowed with the sun's departure. Grace went back out after the horses were put up to look at the moon. As she stepped out the door she saw something, close, moving in the near-darkness. It was the male coyote, disappearing at a quick trot into the night. The night time was theirs. The night, the forest, all of it. Once the sun went down it was a different world outside. And moreso lately than Grace recalled it being in the past. May 15. Grace watched the pre-dawn clouds. She did not care for what she saw. There would be no rain from this. These were some real clouds mixed with what the boss called the "boney fingers", which she did not believe were natural clouds at all. Moments later, the dogs began barking. Graced turned and looked toward the north. Coyotes were drinking from Skye's little bird bath. They blended so perfectly into the surroundings. But it was not thirst alone that drew them. They were hovering nearby, even after the sun rose. They were holding territory. Skye saw them also. She knew even the water for the birds would have to go. "I'm sorry" Grace said. "Are you going to leave it empty or take it away?" "I'm trying to think like a coyote. And so I think ... I think I will lead them away. I will put the water bowl somewhere else. I will fill it one more time. And then let it go dry." Skye chose a spot where coyotes would be visible to anyone on the road. She walked the old bowl there, theoretically leaving a scent trail, theoretically saying "your offerings will be served here now." She did her best to think like a coyote. The dish only held one gallon of water, but hopefully that water would last long enough for the coyotes to become accustomed to going somewhere else to find it. Water dish relocated and refilled, Skye had an idea. Skye brought in a big, clear plastic tub. "We have a lot of these you know. What's the chance we could fill them with water and leave them around the forest for the wild critters?" Grace sighed. "We don't have any way to transport water. And that tub will hold a lot of water." Meanwhile, out on Chilao Flat, horses gathered. In the sky, the clouds with their boney fingers would bring no rain. The pale mare had taken the lead as Petrichor's small band headed for the watering holes atop Mustang Rock. The bay mare let her go. The horses scrambled up the rocks to the pools. But the pools were dry. The pale mare snorted in alarm. Petrichor responded. It was Highlander. He had come with his single dun mare to look for water, just as Petrichor's band had. Highlander squealed and snorted and postured. The mares saw their chance. The bay mare and the dun were known to each other. Perhaps they were related. They broke rank, each leaving the invisible boundary that separated one band from the other, coming together to greet each other. Petrichor pawed and shook his head...but avoided actually engaging Highlander. There was no water, and so there was nothing to fight over. No reason to risk getting injured. The clattering of the stallion's hooves broke up the mare's reunion. The bay mare began to move off, and her herd followed, Petrichor bringing up the rear. Dusk, May 15. The sun's last glow colored the mountains. "I don't know exactly where the moon is going to rise" Grace said, "but it will be somewhere in this general direction." The eclipse was already under way so the full moon rose partly in shadow. The shadow came over the moon quickly. The totality phase lasted a long time. There was a hush that came with it. A primordial sort of silence that harkened to a time of omens and goddesses...and it was as dark as a night with no moon. But when the shadow departed, the brilliant reflection of the moon quickly lit the night again. Although the eclipse was over before midnight, something about it kept the girls up and chattering until the wee hours of morning, so it was not until noon that Grace took La Barilla for his inaugural spin with a saddle on May 16. And he did do a little bit of spinning. The air was hot, and as they walked, the long way, to get to the arena, a dry, restless wind came in gusts. It was somehow unsettling. Skye lead the way, slow and calm, on Deer Medicine. They reached the indoor arena without incident. "Are you going to turn him loose?" Skye asked. "No. For one thing, this is a really nice saddle. For another, the cinch isn't very snug. It's just snug enough to hold the saddle on under normal circumstances. If I turned him loose in something, it would be your bareback pad to start." Grace hadn't really planned on making it all the way to the arena. But La Barilla was doing so well. You could see that he was thinking, concentrating, trying to work with the awkwardness of a thing on his back. He wasn't angry, or frustrated, or frightened. He was trying to work it out. That horse is going to be fantastic under saddle, Skye thought. May 20. Returning to Chilao in a wonderfully cool mist, the first thing the girls came upon was an irate coyote in the campgrounds. It was howling mad, vocalizing at a man with two large dogs and a lady in a truck who also had two large dogs. How dare campers bring dogs along with them into her territory, she seemed to be saying. Chilao Fire Station came into view. Ah. Home again. Home always felt good. They found a note on the table, and flowers. "I love popcorn flowers" Skye said. "I'll find something to put them in. What does the note say?" "There is A new pony. In the Vastness of The Land, You will Find her. Round hooves, Heart of steel Stout and square. She may need Some love Elbow grease Customizing But if You treat her Well She will Take you Places." And so they looked, although they were not entirely sure for what. They looked south toward the campgrounds. They went up into the rocks to the northwest, and based on the greeting they got from coyote earlier, they went without the dogs. Atop the yucca they saw Band-tailed pigeon, or as their neighbor Darren called them, mountain chickens. They went into some of the still-blackened parts of the controlled burn. Surely anything there would leave a track, a trace. But they saw nothing. They headed back toward home, as the fog and clouds moved silently across the landscape. "We'll go out again tomorrow" Grace said. "It's not an actual horse...the boss would never leave an old horse out there. Unless it was a sculpture. But a sculpture...a sculpture wouldn't take us places. I mean not literally." "Right, right! Oh this is so exciting I can't stand it." As night fell, the wild things took over the land. Even more than they were already doing while it was still light out. May 21. It was high spring. Skye was mounted up and ready to go before Grace. Grace saddled up Jesse. It wasn't too long before Grace and Jesse caught up to Skye. They searched along the outer perimeter of the property, and then beyond it. Redbird Ranch was just shy of 37 acres proper, and they'd covered a lot of it on foot yesterday. They rode out onto Forest Service land. They were pretty sure they were looking for a vehicle. They split up, criss-crossing the burn area above the ranch. They headed up into the rocks where they often saw Petrichor and his small band of mares and foals. But they saw nothing today. Not even coyotes. They made their way back to the fire break, and headed home, empty handed. There was only one part of the property they hadn't searched yet. The firebreak on the eastern flank of the property. Cheatgrass had made a sudden appearance, going to seed, drying out and becoming just so much light fuel in a matter of weeks. The soil was loose in some places and hard in others and there were holes big enough to trip a horse throughout. Grace stared toward the setting sun. Where. Where was this "new pony" hiding? Skye broke the poem down line by line. "In the vastness of the land you will find her, it says. It says 'the land' not 'this land' so I think that could mean anywhere, not just right here on the ranch." Grace nodded. "I'm pretty sure we're looking for a car" Skye added. "I hope not" Grace said. "We need a truck." Skye set the note down. She had an audience, and they didn't much care about the piece of paper. It was dinner time. May 22. The girls followed Skye's hunch about "the vastness of the land." They left the Redbird Ranch property and headed out onto USFS land. The first clues they found were potentially not encouraging. A scattering of vehicle parts, sun-faded and worn by time. And then the Jeep. There were no campers, no drone pilots, no weekend warriors, no lost hikers around. They stared in silence. Finally Grace spoke. "This must be it." There was nothing but the sound of the breeze and the cooling air as the shadows grew long. They waited for a bit. Skye broke the silence. "It's tiny!" Despite which, Skye seemed rather fond of it already. She slipped down off of Mista Spot, and circled the Jeep. It had four round tires. Seats. Steering wheel. It was dusty...but it was more or less a whole vehicle. She fumbled around with the glove box and when it finally opened, she found a single key. It fit the ignition. "Should I start it?" "Sure" Grace responded. It started. It didn't sound very powerful...but it started, and it kept running. And it drove. A little weak, a little slowly, but it drove. "Are there some things missing here?" Skye called back to Grace. "Yes. There's a lot missing. The windshield. And the roof. I think most vehicles have some kind of roof. I think it might also be missing seat belts." Skye had never driven anything before, but this was pretty simple. And slow. Still! She was driving! And then she came to an abrupt halt. "Shouldn't a jeep be able to go through a hole?" "Well" Grace said, "I don't think this one has enough power to fight its way out of a paper bag." The breeze swayed the flowers. All was silent except for the sound of the little Jeep. And then it too fell silent. "Well, doggone it...it's cute! It's so little. Now what are we going to do?" Grace stared silently for a few moments before answering. "I have an idea." Grace decided to try horse power...old fashioned single horse power...to bring home the Jeep. Skye had never ridden two up before. She wasn't sure where to sit, and wound up more or less on the cantel. "Do you think this is gonna work?" "We'll know pretty soon" Grace answered. It was working. The little Jeep started again, and it ran as best as it could. Skye learned how not to jab the brakes on the down hill portions, and Loch'sha learned when to lean into the rope, and little by little, they made their way back to the ranch. That little Jeep may not have been worth much...but using Loch'sha to bring it home was priceless. May 27 La Barilla moved more freely with the bareback pad. And no wonder. It didn't squeak, it had no flapping stirrups, it was light and soft. Grace talked aloud. Skye wasn't sure if the words were meant for herself or the horse, but she wanted to listen. "This little bit of pressure from my hand, it doesn't bother you at all. Some day such a light touch will give you direction." After a successful second saddle session with the golden stallion, the girls decided to bring some other horses to the arena. Slowly but surely Grace was getting to like the indoor arena. The walk could be a bit challenging with the wind blowing, but it was worth it. Simba appeared to agree. Valiant was one of the first horses Grace rode when she arrived and she had a special fondness for him. "Moose!" Skye had a particular fondness for the big, gentle stallion...probably a Morgan/Paint mix. Grace hadn't spent a lot of time with Indrafez. He was a very fine Arabian horse, with kind eyes. Windy Boy was still one of her most beloved mounts. (halter by Jennifer Buxton) Horses put away and the sun moving swiftly toward the western horizon, Skye turned her attention to the upcoming weekend, and the powwow. Redbird's 20th Children of Many Colors Powwow was coming up. Michelle Sepiol's dresses would finally see the light of day again. "I'm bringing the cloth ones for sure" Skye said. "You might get a chance to wear both of them" Grace replied. "I'm so...I'm a little intimidated by this one" Skye said, gently holding the white buckskin dress. "Don't worry, the time will come for that one. Besides, the boss is bringing the shepherd pups along. I bet we'll get to babysit them." Skye could just imagine what those two rambunctious rascals might do to a buckskin dress...a giant leather chew toy...she carefully put it back in her chest, and packed the cloth dresses, and the wonderful moccasins they came with.
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April 30, 2022. It was upon them. MIM 2022, the Tiburcio Vasquez Challenge Chilao Live Halter Show. As members of the hosting entity, Redbird Ranch, Grace and Skye could not show any of their horses. They got to enjoy the show, the horses, and as the day wore on, the riding.
Guest's horses were turned out in the arena to the pleasure of the crowd. Grace took Jesse for a spin. He was focused and on task. She was keenly aware that the last time they'd had an event at the ranch was the time that she'd busted a cinch and taken a fall off of Jesse. She made certain the tack she put on him was sturdy and unlikely to fail. Tara Reich was the artist behind the most exotic horse and hair cut Grace or Skye had ever seen. The horse appeared to be an Akhal Teke cross, lacking the iridescent glow but clipped to look like a Pegasus, wings folded down against his side. He was stunning. All of Tara's horses were crowd pleasers, beautiful, spirited and interacting with a great deal of personality. Horses at liberty occupied the arena in the morning. Later in the day, performance horses dominated. Grace and Skye got to spend a little time with Dahlia. She was quick witted. You had to pay attention when she spoke, because her words were few and well chosen. Grace got to ride a reining horse, one of Tara's. Dahlia suggested she hold the reins like a butterfly and use only her body weight to offer cues. Skye fell in love with an aged Lipizzan mare (owned by Janice Kall). Dahlia saddled up the fiery winged steed on May 1, Sunday morning. The show was over and there was time to for riding. Skye brought Dani Girl down just so she could ride too. One of the judges was still there on Sunday. He yelled something to Skye about minors and head gear. Skye was used to his yelling. Dani Girl not so much. Skye didn't actually own a helmet, but Tara loaned her a hat. It got mixed reviews. The guy they called Screaming Man seemed pretty pleased with it, even if the judge wasn't. Grace got to ride another pretty incredible horse, owned by Julia Turner. He was fast, unusually marked, incredibly responsive and versatile. Poles, barrels, reining...this was a fine tuned horse. Around noon, as the day warmed, it was just too nice to ride in the indoor arena any more. Dahlia, Grace and Skye rode to the outdoor arena. There, Dani Girl got her first glimpse at young cattle, and she seemed quite at ease with them. Grace got to do some more riding on Tara Reich's reiner. Dahlia looked relaxed no matter what was happening beneath the saddle. Grace turned down no opportunities to ride. Tara and Julia had some very fine horses. Finally, the day's heat chased the girls back to the arena, where it was time to say goodbye to their guests. The girls returned home tired, but smiling and full of good memories. It had been a long but really fun weekend. "Did you sell anything Skye?" "Oh! No, I didn't. I had kind of forgotten all about it. I was having so much fun." May 9. Grace and Skye rode out as the sun was cresting the ridge. They hadn't seen any wild horses in some time, and Grace had a hunch she knew why. They rode across the strange Chilao monolithes, with its highways of flat stone. The stone's face was full of life, with colorful lichens and lizards emerging from crevices. They rode slow and easy over the rocks. Deer Medicine was calm and sure footed. Dreamboat picked his foot falls carefully. His steps were deliberate and measured. The sun was just about to crest the ridge. Soon the night's cool air would be chased away. They came to the place Skye called Mustang Rock just as the sun arrived. And as Grace suspected, there was no water. Not even a trace in the pools at the summit. There was life though, to be sure. And the sun felt wonderful after a rather cool pre-dawn ride. Dreamboat stepped carefully around the edge of one of the dry pools. Skye rode into one of them. No local water, no local wild horses. Mystery solved, they headed back to the ranch. They changed horses and went back out to the big outdoor arena. From the north the girls watched the sky, with its weird tendrils of white drawing upward. Mare's tails, Michelle Seipol called them. Grace has less kind terms to describe the things she did not believe were natural clouds. Boney fingers*, she'd heard the boss call them once, and she liked the description. From the south, beautiful, natural clouds began to spill across the sky. Grace and Cookie brought the rather diminutive range calves in for inspection. They'd been brought up for MIM, but before they were turned out again, Grace couldn't resist working them a little. "I remember one of the first times I saw you ride" Skye recalled. "You got on Cookie with a neck rein. And nothing else. You made it look like you were born on a horse." "I was showing off" Grace laughed. "I wanted the job. And Cookie is that good." "You work with them a little" Grace suggested to Skye. Mista Spot did whatever Skye asked. And he seemed to understand the idea of holding the cattle in an area. But he wasn't as young or as athletic as Cookie. Grace decided to put Skye on Cookie. Skye did not hesitate. "Which one should I choose?" "The blondie." Cookie was quick! With very little direction, Cookie singled out the blondie. Skye had a natural seat. Even though her feet did not reach the stirrups, she quickly figured out how to sit Cookie. When they took a break, Grace left Skye watching the horses for a few moments. She had a surprise, she said. Skye took in the sights as she waited for Grace. The northern sky turned white. The southern sky still lovely. The lizards and insects. The flowers emerging from the parched soil. Grace had a surprise all right. She came back with Mojo, and the Argentine Criollo bull. Cat and bull followed her. She lead the bull into the arena without a lead rope...using only a tuxedo cat. And then she stood there in front of him. And nothing happened. Even Cookie and Spot looked a little concerned. "I talked to his previous owners" Grace called over her shoulder as she walked away from the cat and the bull, and Mojo followed, and the bull started to follow too. "His name is Toro Toro Taxi." Skye clung to the fence, regardless. "And he's been handled since he was just a little baby. We've been scared of him for no good reason." Skye came down off the fence. All that snorting and pawing and those deadly horns...were, according to Grace, nothing to fear. And she was willing to prove it by turning her back to him. In the sky, the things Grace called boney fingers descended toward the clouds. And the girls watched the sky, and marveled too at spring emerging in the ground. They heard the cry of a red-tailed hawk and saw it streak across the sky, landing about half a mile away, and then as quickly as it landed, lunging down toward the ground. It was so far away, they could barely see it, but still, it was exciting. Skye had stopped feeding the birds because every time she did, coyotes came out to see what the fuss was about. The birds reluctantly got the memo, but every now and then, thy still followed her around, vocalizing. For a time in the afternoon the clouds piled across the sky. Real clouds. Moisture bearing clouds. The girls watched the ever-changing sky. They felt the breeze and drank in the moment. They hoped. The wished. They prayed for rain. April 1, 2022. The girls saw a lone coyote on their way home. It moved through the brush at dusk, melting into the surroundings, blending into brush and rocky ground, but never giving much quarter. It moved off slowly, like it meant to anyway, like the girls and their barking dogs did not matter. Skye had to watch which way the dogs were looking to see it some of the time...when it held still, it became part of the landscape. She pointed the camera and just kept shooting.
"We caught him shape shifting" Skye said, reviewing her images. "His fur looks purple and green." Grace looked carefully at the image. He really did look purple and green. Was it a he though? Grace thought she recalled the local male coyote being a bit more robust. At the house, The dogs were restless, on high alert. Skye searched for movement on the landscape. But soon the cause for their concern become audible. Coyote was not entirely alone. The call of two coyotes could be heard just at sunset. And then the calling stopped abruptly, leaving just the songs of bird against the silence. April 4. It was time to chose the horses for Breyerfest.* They would not be going to Kentucky Horse Park, but they would be participating in the online show, which was likely going to be bigger, and the competition just as tough. The mares and geldings they'd turned out were all strong candidates. It was a beautiful day, and you could not help but to feel alive in the presence of the horses. It was cool inside the indoor arena, not nearly as nice as being out in the sunshine, but Grace had a surprise for Skye. The sponsor banners were all up. Including Skye's logo for Models In The Mountains, affectionately known as MIM.** "Wow, you liked it enough to put it on the wall!" "Yes." Grace had taken a version of Skye's Models in the Mountains logo and made it into a poster for the arena. In fact, it appeared several times on the arena wall. April 8. Suddenly it was spring. Popcorn flower covered vast tracts of the landscape. It was wonderful to walk among native plants in the wake of the controlled burn. Acres of them. Flowering glorious despite a very dry winter and not much hope for a wet spring. Before Skye could spend much time in the flowers, Grace was on the hunt for wild horses again. The girls went on foot, and soon, they pressed themselves down to the earth, exposed on the fire-opened pasture land, hoping not to startle the horses. They could hear them coming. They didn't have to wait long. It was Storm and Rain Man.*** The bachelor stallions looked for all the world like they were at war. But they were always together. Together and alone, without mares. And without mares, there was no reason for war. Just endless bickering and posturing and the occasional bite. Storm seemed to be emerging as the more aggressive of the two. The swirling and squealing lasted but a few moments before both horses dropped to the ground and enjoyed some fresh grazing. And in a few more moments, they were off, as abruptly as they had arrived. Skye and Grace saw something moving in front of them as they headed for home. Coyote. Coyote trotted away, and then, presumably curious, took a seat on a rock outcropping, and watched, calmly, as the girls made their way home. Skye had more time to take pictures. She was pretty sure this was in fact the male that the boss named Lives Among Them. He would be three or four years old, and if the average life span of a coyote in the wild really was four years, that would make him an elder. There was a sense of peace about the evening. For a moment, all was right in the world. April 10. A marine layer tumbled quietly up the mountain, bringing moist, cool air. Grace and Skye were still working on the outdoor arena when the cool clouds ushered in the night. It had taken most of the day, but the outdoor arena was ready, except for fencing. Keeping a nice soft layer of sand was a constant struggle in such a windy place. "I think it looks fantastic" Skye said. "Do you think we'll be able to get some horses photographed tomorrow morning?" Grace thought for a while before answering. "Maybe." The marine layer was welcome, though it had an odd smell...oceanic, yes, but also sort of musty. It was a scent Grace couldn't quite describe. Together they watched the sun set, overlooking the Station Fire burn footprint in Chilao, below Mooney Road. "I don't have to ask" Skye said. "I can clearly see the things that are not clouds. But the marine layer coming in underneath it is real." Even before dark the owls were calling. Skye tried to get pictures, but as soon as she did, they flew away. April 11. The morning weather was nothing short of perfect. The girls worked quickly, while the sky was clear and the wind was calm. Glamour shots, Grace liked to call them. They turned one horse after another out in the big outdoor arena, and did their best to get award-winning photos of them. It was approaching 9 AM by the time all of the horses had been turned out individually. "Can we do Spot?" Skye asked. "Of course we can." Skye borught her beloved old appaloosa gelding out into the pen. He stood, attentive, ready to do whatever Skye asked of him. "There's your champion" Skye beamed. Horses returned to their stalls, Grace and Skye were admiring a fast growing yucca flower. It seemed like spring was reaching a fever pitch in the last week, and this yucca, located in the controlled burn area, was especially eager to flower. Three short, loud blasts of sound came from a raven, flying fast from east to west. Raven calls are never random. The girls watched the bird, and then turned their attention to their surroundings on the ground. When their eyes rested upon the earth Grace and Skye saw the coyote. "I think that's the female" Grace said. She sauntered up the road, looking tired, and rather round. The girls tried to see if they could detect whether or not she'd had her pups already. They couldn't see any evidence that she was lactating, and her belly looked round but not distended with pregnancy. If she was going to pup, and hadn't already, it should happen any day now. And a few moments later, flanking the ranch along its eastern boundary, the male, Lives Among Them. The coyotes weren't the only ones stirring. The hills were alive with the sound of music...bird music. And Skye's generous feeding had drawn the entire local population of band tailed pigeons, ravens, a red-headed bird that was not a sparrow but she wasn't sure what it was; the occasional robin, black birds, and a most unusual visitor, a Stellar Jay. Stellar Jays were a common sight down the road a piece, in the thick of the tree line, but not here on the high desert transition of Redbird Ranch. And rodents. Bird food was not the exclusive joy of the birds. Ground squirrels and chipmunks relished in the feast. They in turn would make good food for hawks, bobcats, and the rather close neighbors, the coyotes. "I suspect the coyotes are denning in or near the old forest service buildings" Grace said. "Once the pups are on the ground they'll be more protective of their territory. We should probably avoid the area in general with the dogs." Two coyotes didn't seem like much, Skye thought, but soon enough there'd be more than two. Outside, as predicted, the weather changed. The marine layer returned, cool and thick, cloud shadows laying on the landscape, and then the cool hush of moist air blanketing the ground. April 16. It was another lovely, windstill morning. Perfect for photographing horses. Relempago en la Pampa was the name of this one of the buckskin pinto Mangalarga Marchador. "This is the first horse I rode when I got here" Grace told Skye. "He was very good to me. I had to ride him bareback, and I had no idea how to sit his gaits, but I got to stay on with the ranch, so I guess we did okay." Then the latest draft mare, a Brabant Grace thought. She was so lovely, and so good natured. Black Velvet, A Tennessee Walking Horse, still moving strong. One of the oldest horses Grace knew of. And then Ansata D'hib. Probably the tallest Arab Grace had ever encountered...but then, she wasn't really well versed in Arabians. D'hib had been through a bit of an ordeal, getting lost on his way to the ranch and then, when he finally arrived, bearing the scars of whatever misfortune befell him in transit. She wasn't sure why she liked him so much...but she did. Next, Precious, Skye's beloved 1996 Thomas Bainbridge mare, gifted to Redbird Ranch by Laurel Dedes. There had been no coyote sitings all morning, and the girls were thus emboldened to go for a walk-about, beyond the arena, into the boulder-strewn landscape that surrounded them, now open and accessible since the controlled burn. Skye thought one of the rocks looked something like a male grouse, or a prairie chicken. And the girls had company. Nine dogs and Mojo. The air was cool but the sun was warm, and real clouds danced across the sky. From their vantage point atop the rocks, perhaps they could see horses. The dogs all knew what stay meant. Mojo might have known what stay meant, but clearly, commands are for dogs. Alas, there were no wild horses to see. They headed home across a vast and mostly flat rock escarpment, with a couple of crevices. Too wide for the pups to navigate, and risky for the elders. So they were lifted across. New growth sprouted and gleamed green in the controlled burn area. The ground was alive with lizards, and the dogs were very happy to chase them about. Miner's lettuce grew among the grass. Birds were everywhere. April 23. Evening shadows grew long. Grace and Skye had worked on preparations for Models in the Mountains all day. Grace didn't have the energy to saddle a horse. They took Shades of Autumn for a short walk, to overlook the campgrounds and watch the sun set. "Did you hear that?" Skye said. Grace strained to hear whatever sound had caught Skye's attention, assuming it must be an animal noise. She scanned the bluff, looked under the trees, watched for movement. Nothing. "What do you hear?" Grace finally asked. "That song!" "What song?" "I don't know all the words" Skye said. "Can you sing the melody?" "I...I don't know." "Try." Skye did her best. "She was like oh my God, this is my song, I been waitin' to hear it all day long..." Grace could faintly hear it. "I didn't know you liked Country" Grace whispered. Skye giggled. "Neither did I!" April 25. The indoor arena was done. For now at least. The girls celebrated with a turn-out of mares, geldings and a foal. Chili Pepto, a roan quarter horse gelding with live show wins. Summer Lover, a palomino Morab with Arabian on both sides. The new Fjord show pony. Boots, a roan quarter horse mare with beautiful moves and a great personality. JM's Fabulous Flash, a seal bay morgan gelding, took a liking to the new pony girl. Pretender and Impressive Goal, the sport horse mare and foal. The Grail, a palomino sabino anglo-barb mare distantly related to Skye's Deer Medicine. What a beautiful bunch of horses. It was the last chance the girls would have to use the indoor arena as a turn-out ring. In just a few days, Models in the Mountains 2022, the Tiburcio Vasquez Challenge Chilao would be upon them; a live halter show hosted by Redbird Ranch. * Unfortunately, the Breyerfest online shows would not include a regular open division in 2022. But there was always The Collective, a horse show series on PonyBytes.com spearheaded by Redbird Ranch. They could show in any division that they were not also judging. ** MIM - Models In The Mountains is a North American Nationals, Gold Coast and Western Conference live halter qualifier show held at Chilao School. The next show will take place April 28-30, 2023. *** Storm and Rain Man are Nemesis and Wahoo, traditional scale resins sculpted by Kitty Cantrell and painted by Corina Roberts March 5. The sky darkened rather suddenly and a flurry of snowflakes began to fall. Skye scrambled around for her shoes and coat. Where was her coat? She saw Grace's coat laying at the end of her bed, and put it on...and then as she made her way outside, the sun broke through. Hobo and Skye and White Dog went on a walkabout. It was quiet, cold, the world their own. The clouds gathered again, and a light snow resumed. So peaceful, and beautiful. They wandered along the edge of the tree line. Then up into the rocks. The light changed constantly and flurries of snow came and went, melting as soon as they touched the ground, or a dog, or a girl. Or a horse. As they stood at the base of the steep rock ravine, It took Skye a moment to notice that White Dog was focused on something behind her. She spun around to see Petrichor. For a moment he seemed tense, and also spun around. Skye stood up tall as she could. Her silhouette was something like that of a very furry animal...perhaps a bear...dark head and round, silver-black body. For a tense moment, Petrichor used all of his senses to determine the true nature of this approaching creature. And then he let out a long snort...not an aggressive sound, but almost like releasing...as if a perceived threat had passed and danger was over. No wonder Grace was so in love with him. Something about him was just...magnificent. Meanwhile, back at the ranch, the first new horses had arrived, and whether Grace was keen on indoor arenas or not, it was proving mighty handy to have one today. Just another stallion, Grace told herself. But he was pretty spectacular, really. A deep red bay Akhal Teke. Possessed of a ground-eating way of going, a fine head, a kind temperament, and a lot of training. All of it in english disciplines, but still. Okay. Maybe she was a little excited about the new horse. Maybe. Grace marveled at the clouds...real clouds, every one of them...as she lead the new stallion back to the ranch. By the time she had him settled in, another flurry of snow began. The wild birds seemed to enjoy it. March 6. The morning began clear and relatively warm, and noisy. A pair of coyotes defiantly announced their presence at dawn. They positioned themselves by the garage of the fire station, where the sound of their calls was not only amplified, but reverberated off the bluff to the south. The result was magnificently loud. The day seemed like it would be one of endless sunshine, but by the time the second new horse arrived, it was cold and cloudy. Grace brought him to the indoor arena. A big, easy going chestnut Morgan with a strong, almost floating trot. Skye took a liking to him right away. She ran next to him as he worked his way up and down the arena. "He reminds me of Moose!" The clouds lingered for most of the afternoon. After spending some time at the arena, Skye tried to figure out how she would display some of her art in The Barn Art Show. It would be a part of this years' Models in the Mountains show. High on the walls of the arena were hooks for hanging flat pieces...but some of her work was big, and not flat. Not so long ago the studio seemed empty, but now, in addition to Skye's art, other horses moved back and forth from the studio to their room. Grace especially loved the deer that Skye transformed. She could sell those for sure, Grace thought. Maybe not at MIM, but somewhere, if she tried. "I want to sell Padronis, too" Skye said. "Are you sure? She's pretty nice Skye." I think we can list both of our NaMo horses in a certain place in the NaMoPaiMo group. But we have to put a price on them. And I want to do a little touch up on the face on Puddle Jumper." Skye was silent for a moment. "I have no idea what the price should be." The girls went back to their room. Somehow, all at once it seemed like a little bit of a crowded house. Grace looked around. "We could take down the posters and put up shelves" Grace mused. "Oh, no, I don't think we should do that" Skye said. The cloud cover parted in the late afternoon, but enough clouds lingered to make a trip out to see the sunset seem like a good idea. It was a bit cold to be out without jackets on. The sun broke below the cloud line just as they turned for home. They watched for a moment longer before retreating to the shelter of their somewhat crowded room. Grace found some reasonably priced frames for Skye's two watercolors. Of everything she'd done so far, Skye was still insecure about her watercolors on paper. The frames helped them look more pleasing somehow. March 13. The forecast called for the wind to resume, but dawn came still and warm. So Grace and Skye rode out in style, on the long legged sport horses, Gunner the pearl Akhal Teke, and Dani Girl, the young appaloosa-colored warmblood mare. And wherever Skye went, the birds followed, hopeful. The recent burn had left the landscape open. They could see all around. New grass was growing. The soil still retained a touch of moisture. It was a glorious day. Grace's goal was a head count. They would look for all the wild horses they knew of. Where there was water, there was wildlife, but the seasonal streams were already dry, so they had to do a bit of searching. Highlander and the dun mare were the first wild horses they found. Highlander had probably seen the girls approaching long before they had seen him. He began to retreat. Then he spun around. He was a lot of horse. There was no need to get closer. Just something nearly irresistible about being close to wild horses. Grace drew Gunner in. They were close enough to see that both horses were fine and there were still just two of them. Highlander and his mare moved off. Crazy and his band had moved north. The smallest of the stallions, he was a fireball. He scrambled down the granite boulders to join his mares below. You always knew where you stood with Crazy. He did not like company. The nanny mare, Lady Godiva Skye called her, was keen on keeping the single foal of the herd safe. The girls watched from a respectful distance. These were some beautiful horses, and they were always active. Finally, Crazy had had enough, and charged toward Grace and Skye. The girls backed off, leaving the colorful herd to their wild ways. Further north still, Skye spotted the pale mare of Petrichor's band. It was nearly noon, and the still air grew warm. The pale mare and her jet black foal were in the stream bed, but it was dry, grass replacing water. The horses were spread out. They saw the bay mare and her spotted foal on the knoll above the stream bed. Further away still, Grace spotted Petrichor. The mares and their foals turned away, back towards Petrichor. There would be no friendly greeting today. He seemed nervous, distant...wild. Except for the two big stallions that had no mares, Rain Man and Storm, they had found them all. It had taken three hours and a good piece of riding, but their horses were still fresh as they turned for home. And as they did, they heard the wind in the pines, a whisper to a roar in just minutes. Another new arrival greeted the girls when they returned to the ranch. A spotted drafter was Grace's guess. He was lovely with a kind eye and a gentle demeanor. "We have a matched team, actually" Grace said. ""But I guess they'll be arriving separately." "He's gorgeous" Skye replied. "What is he? Are we keeping him?" "I'm going to take a guess at North American Spotted Draft, and I'm not sure if they will be staying or not." "How many draft stallions does Redbird Ranch have?" Grace thought for a moment. "About 23. Or maybe 25. Enough, for sure. You know, let's get some of them out." One by one they took the draft horses down to the arena. Not all twenty-however-many there were, but a few. Gypsy Gold. "Are we keeping this one?" Skye asked. "He's fun!" Grace shrugged, uncertain. Jake. "This one I hope we can sell" Grace said. We aren't doing much with him." "Now this is a great horse" Grace explained. Paddy Wagon, an Irish Drought. This one is a keeper." "Silver Moon, a shire, also a keeper." Brownie, an old style Belgian. "Keeper" the girls agreed. "And this is the sweetest horse you will ever meet in your life. This is Shy Thunder. Also a keeper." Then the horses got put away and the dogs got to come down to the arena...ten dogs and one cat, to be exact. There were decisions to be made...lots of them. It was time to address the bare white sponsorship wall of the arena, thus far adorned only with a Highway 2 decal. "Do you think this NaMoPaiMo decal could be bigger?" "Not too much bigger" Grace answered, "or it won't fit." Grace was rather fond of the Protectibles decals herself. But before all those decisions were made, Grace wanted to make sure the arena would function as intended for The Barn Art Show. So they took one of Skye's two framed watercolors...one of the heaviest pieces they hoped to include in the show...and tried it out. 3.13.22 Once on the wall, Skye kind of liked it... They made it back home before the sun went down, with ten dogs and...Mojo. Grace and Skye watched apprehensively as Mojo and Ginger Cat shared the table top with fine art. There was a collective sigh of relief when the cats got off the table. Another lovely evening unfolding. Spring in the air. March 20. Skye and the dogs made their way across the rocky ravine they had seen Petrichor move through effortlessly so many times. It was steeper and more rugged than Skye remembered. The trek was proving tough for Little Spot. Skye hadn't really intended to wind up here. The wind had blown all day long and she decided to go for a walk, and then perhaps to see if she could find Petrichor and his band, as he had seemed so nervous last time they saw him. They started out in the grassy meadows, but found no horses there. So into the ravine they went. But everyone seemed uneasy there. The dogs were on high alert...and poor Little Spot. Skye decided to head for home. Finally, they were out of the rocks and back on relatively flat ground. But the dogs kept looking back behind them, even the pups. For a girl who didn't like indoor arenas, Grace was spending a lot of cold and windy days inside of one. The walk from the stables to the indoor arena was fairly long, and the wind didn't make it any easier. Grace took the golden stallion, La Barilla, in the last hour of sunlight. He sure could move. Grace used very few aids. No stud chain. No lunging whip. He knew how to lunge. But he needed more. It was time to focus on him. She imagined what he would be like to ride. As lovely as the finest Spanish horse she'd ever seen. And gleaming gold. It had been a good session. Time to head back, before dark. The sky was clean and clear, the night cool, the wind laying down as the sun was setting. March 26. Grace snuck out for an early morning ride on Jesse. It would be a busy day, and this would likely be her only chance to get some time in the saddle. The rest of the day would be spent somewhere pretty special. Both Grace and Skye were a little young to recall The Singing Cowboy, but he'd left behind a wonderful legacy...The Gene Autry Western Heritage Museum. There was a particular show the boss had recommended. It was the 25th Masters of the American West show. The first piece their eyes fell upon was a masterpiece of workmanship - The Maverick by Kyle Polzin. "I guess there's a couple artists in the show that the boss knows" Grace commented as they looked at a painting called Garden Light, "and this is one of them...Jeremy Lipking." The show was wonderful. The girls could have spent all day there. Skye photographed her favorite pieces. Somehow they managed to leave the museum with a magazine, but not the show program. Skye had been moved nonetheless. They had witnessed many styles of fine art, and oen is always left richer for that experience. Back at home, Skye was excited to show off her own work, the logo design for Models in the Mountains. Grace was visibly stunned - or perhaps startled - by it. "Is it too vague?" Skye asked. "It's totally not what I expected" Grace replied. "It's not vague. It's...it's very insider. I was expecting horses." "I can do something with horses..." "No, this is awesome. I think you should add a little length to the bottom of the first tree so it sits flat. Then let's get's a good picture of it." Slowly, a storm system began rolling up the mountain on Sunday afternoon. At last. A bit of rain to go with the incessant wind. Skye spent the soggy morning inside, playing around with her design. Adding a little grass, which in the end she wasn't sure she liked. And adding her new signature...SL, for Skye Little. February 14, 2022 Valentine's Day it might have been, but for the girls, it was the half-way mark in the month of NaMoPaiMo. Skye's horse was proving to be quite challenging, but she was not unhappy. It was coming along. Grace didn't really want to talk about her horse. And instead of working on her NaMo horse, Grace took Skye down to the new indoor arena at Chilao School. Along with some horses that needed a turn out. "It's a work in progress" Grace explained, "and constructed almost entirely from recycled materials. Which is awesome, but sometimes difficult. We've had to cobble things together here and there. It's getting closer." Grace didn't much care for indoor riding. But it did make a great turn out arena and it would be nice in bad weather. They spent the morning bringing down a couple of horses that hadn't been out in a while. Grace was also not a huge fan of Araloosas, except for the weanling filly they'd brought down for some exercise...Cali Girl. On February 18, Grace made her declaration. She did it. Her NaMoPaiMo horse, Puddle Jumper, was done. Bi-colored eyes and chestnuts and everything. In fact it was not until she got to the end of it that Grace started getting some feel for the acrylics. Mostly she promised herself that she would never attempt another pinto in acrylics again. It was dinner time. And Grace was spent. She had worked since sunrise on the new arena. It was near completion now. "How did we get ten dogs anyway?" Grace asked, sighing. "Twelve if you count the shepherd pups that the boss took. Don't worry" Skye said, "I'll feed them." Skye paused on her way to get the food started to gaze at the latest inspiration piece that the boss had loaned the girls, a model named Chalice. What a beauty. "Oh! I almost forgot!" Skye was suddenly enthusiastic. "I want to make a logo for Models in the Mountains. I have an idea!" "Oh," Grace replied without moving, "Well I did forget. I brought you something that might help with that. It's under the pillow of the bottom bunk." Skye made short work of finding the forgotten surprise. A set of pigment liners. Grace suspected Nel Graham was using something similar for the details in her wonderful watercolors. "Oh wow! This looks cool! I have never used a pigment liner" Skye said, "but I'll sure try!" Skye glanced up to see the sunset as she wrangled the feeding of the dogs. If Grace had thought the clouds were real, she would have been outside, no matter how cold it was, no matter how tired she was. The sunset went on and on, from pink to a sudden flash of orange to grey and purples and turquoise blue. "Someone got carried away with the fairy dust" Grace would likely say. And Skye sort of wished there was no such thing as clouds that weren't really clouds, because she just wanted to love the colors and the beautiful red-purple alpine glow. She just wanted everything to be as wonderful as it looked. February 20 The sun warmed the landscape. Water dwindled in the creek and its tributaries, but there were still pools here and there. Ice lined the surface of the water. The sun's warmth would melt it soon, and thaw the ground as well, but for the moment, the ice was an obstacle. The moon was just setting. The girls picked their way carefully across the soot, sog and ice. They climbed a rock outcropping, seeking its relative visual shelter. Skye noticed something growing between the rocks. They were almost stepping on it. "Chalk Live Forever" Grace said softly. "That's its common name. It's a member of the Dudlia family, I think. It'll flower in late spring." What a boulder-strewn wilderness. The wet ground made tracking the horses easy. This was Petrichor's territory right now, and what a fantastic bit of wild land it was. They found the herd in a draw full of new grass. And they found that Petrichor's herd included a new foal. With the landscape opened by fire, there was abundant food, and no real way to sneak up on the herd. The new foal, born to the bay mare, appeared to be a peacock appaloosa. The mares milled about with their foals, but there was no panic, no move to higher ground. The last time Grace had seen Petrichor, it was terribly windy, and they were in a steep, rocky ravine. Today was very different. Today was calm, and they were in an open landscape. Food was plentiful. A healthy foal had been born. There was water. The air was warming. Grace left their place among the rocks, and walked out into the open grassland. Up the draw. Toward Petrichor. The stallion moved down the draw to meet her. They stood close to each other, exchanging breath. Then Grace reached her hand out to touch the side of his face, caress the the space behind his chin, feel the velvety softness of his muzzle. Grace had known a lot of horses. She definitely had her favorites. But she'd never known a horse quite like this one before. The mares grew restless. Grace took a step back. Petrichor turned away, and rejoined his herd. Moving carefully over the rough terrain, now thawed and muddy, the girls slowly made their way home. There weren't many words they could think of describe that experience, and so they walked mostly in silence. The day was particularly magnificent. February 21 Clouds drifted across a blue sky and new grass pushed up from the burn. Skye had brought her horses out just past the ranch for a day of fresh grass and sunshine. In a small meadow cut by a tributary to Chilao Creek, she watched the clouds go by and delighted in the peaceful grazing and occasionally playful antics of the horses. She day-dreamed of what life might have been like not so long ago, in a buckskin dress instead of blue jeans, a time before cars and airplanes and computers and cell phones and square houses. although in truth she was fond of square houses. And warm beds and soft clothes and fireplaces and refrigerators. But still. What it must have been like. What unbroken paradise. Most of the horses had eaten their fill and were content to bask in the sunshine. The air was beginning to cool, as it did in the early afternoon in winter, even on a sunny day. Probably a good time to start heading back. Only one horse was still actively grazing, the big bay roan, but as far as Skye could tell, that horse could eat all day long. And then Ladyhawk threw up her head and snorted. White Dog scrambled up a rock outcropping to get a better view. It was Highlander and his single mare. Ladyhawk, Deer Medicine and her colt trotted toward the approaching wild band of two. Donkey and Dinky were content to watch. The roan mare turned to get a better view, but didn't let the newcomers disturb her meal. Skye whistled...like it would help somehow...which it didn't. Ladyhawk was a BLM mustang. Skye would have some explaining to do if she lost Ladyhawk to a wild stallion. Deer Medicine was an anglo-barb...Spanish Barb and Thoroughbred to be exact, and never spent a day in the wild. She was probably Skye's favorite mare in the whole world and had a foal by Cloud Nine at her side. Those were not horses she could lose. What to do? The wild dun mare rushed past Highlander. In a moment she was across the creek from Ladyhawk and Deer Medicine, squealing, gnashing her teeth, making it clear she was in no mood for company. Ladyhawk paused. Deer Medicine took just a few more steps forward before turning around. Highlander may have wanted to add more mares to his herd, but the mare he already had seemed to be calling the shots. Just like that, the show was over. Ladyhawk, Deer Medicine and her colt trotted back to join their domestic herd. Skye nudged her mount, Mista Spot, into motion, rounding up her assortment of equines, taking them home. The final details took forever, but on February 23, Skye got to say "I did it." Her NaMoPaiMo horse was done. Pan pastel, earth pigments, oils, colored pencil, acrylics, all layers sealed in dullcote. Padronis, she named her. And this mare she hoped to sell some day. Tired but happy, she and Grace made their way from the tack room back home as night consumed the day. It was a little chilly when the girls got back to their room. Baron was eyeing a spot on the bed at Grace's feet. Skye thought Little Spot looked kind of cold, so she carried him up the ladder, and under the covers. The rest of the dogs were headed for the bottom bunk. Even White Dog was considering. From under the warmth of their covers, the girls took in their life. The lovely posters and pictures, art and memories. The texture of wood all around. The gorgeous bucking horse resin painted by Meredith Warren. The bucking horse didn't have a name yet, at least not that they were aware. "I think we should call him Over The Moon" Skye said. "I like that" Grace responded. February 28. Perhaps it was just a wind effect. Skye and Hobo watched the clouds. The wind remained, relentless, but it was warm, and the clouds...Skye was pretty sure the white ones were clouds...were fleeting. Grace was at home, not quite herself today. Maybe the wind blowing for weeks on end was wearing on her nerves. The ravens followed Skye, hopeful for food. The wind warning would end at 3 PM. It was warm and glorious out. It always seemed to be the most beautiful days when Grace was struck with a touch of melancholy. A bit of a hole in her gut, a loss of spirit that she couldn't quite pin down. It didn't really help that Baron was glued to her side, proof positive something wasn't right. NaMoPaiMo was over, and The Collective's first show was done, and the new arena was complete save for some very minor details. Maybe it was just that...all those conclusions coming at once. But there were new things coming too...things she should be excited about. There were new horses coming. Today even that seemed monotonous. There were more or less always new horses coming. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but somehow the sunshine and blue skies didn't seem to make it any better. Maybe when the wind quit. Maybe then she'd feel like herself again. February is NaMoPaiMo...National Model Painting Month, an anticipated tradition recently begun by Jennifer Bray Buxton on Facebook. There are thousands of followers from all over the world and for Grace and Skye, this would be their second year participating. But February was full of other happenings also. Holding the art theme for a moment, one of the first NaMo surprises was when the boss decided to loan a piece of artwork to the girls as an inspiration for them. That piece was none other than Rayvin Maddock's Little Bucker resin, painted by the incredible Meredith Warren. It was inspiring, yes...but also intimidating, especially for Grace. Grace had sold her first ever custom horse and first NaMoPaiMo project before it was complete; the next horse she painted went on to win a contest. Her prize was the horse she'd chosen to paint for NaMoPaiMo, a mustang stallion by Kitty Cantrell. But this time Grace did not find success easily. The resin had a ton of prep work needed, and she was painting in acrylics for the first time. It was hard. All of it. She struggled with the details, with the paint itself, with how difficult it is to blend acrylics. Skye would struggle also, using the kitchen sink approach to painting a vinyl Arabian model sculpted by Deborah McDermott. But her struggles were somehow...lighter. She did intend to sell this horse...that would make her feel like a real artist...but she was loose and experimental every step of the way. She used acrylics, oils, pastels, colored pencils, mica powders...if you could make a colorful mark with it, she tried it. And there was the indoor arena near Chilao School. Grace was participating on its creation on many levels, including procuring the major elements. The bulk of the structure was made from recycled materials, which sounds very romantic, but in practice, it can be a lot of work to cobble together elements that are warped or stiff with age, or have been coated with who knows what. At one point the girls even used a draft horse to haul some heavy lumber...but without a fitting saddle or proper harness, the weight of the wood proved tough on Grace's shoulder. All the while, in the controlled burn area, the grass was poking its way through the blackened soil and moisture lingered in the seasonal streams. And all of this brought the wild horses. It was a rare and fleeting time of plenty. When the girls weren't painting or sleeping, they were trekking through soggy soot to find the horses. And it was on one of these adventures, on the thirteenth of February on one of the most beautiful days in the world ever, that Grace turned Skye's world all around. "We have to change your name." Skye did not see that one coming. "My name?" "Your given name" Grace explained. "Her Many Horses." "Why?" "When the boss lady gave you that name in honor of the family members she had met, I don't think she had any idea what a prominent family name she gave you. Just out of curiosity I poked around this morning on Facebook. That is an Oglala Lakota family name. and that family is very much alive and active." Grace paused for a moment. The sooty black soil was yet unstable, and she needed to focus on keeping her balance. "The women in the family are very strong. In fact one of them was recently the head woman for the Gathering of Nations powwow. That's the biggest powwow in the world. And the name is one word. Hermanyhorses. All together." "Am I in trouble?" "Not yet. And it wouldn't be you in trouble anyway. But we need to never use the name again." Skye fell silent. The sun was warm and glorious and the grass was greening and the rocks felt warm against her hands. She tried to stay in the present. It was a beautiful day. Even if they didn't find any horses. And even if now she had no name again. Then Skye thought she heard a noise behind them. "Did you hear that?" "I did." Grace and Skye spun around. The horses had found them. Crazy and his herd. Crazy pawed and postured and made it incredibly clear they were not welcome visitors. He is small, and tough, and somehow magnificent. The girls braced themselves against the rocks, waiting quietly for Crazy to go back to his herd. They saw the mare they called Lady Godiva...and beyond her, a surprise. Slowly, quietly, they made their way closer. The quiet mare had a foal by her side. A red foal, perhaps a chestnut sabino, perhaps a red roan or a strawberry roan. Skye imagined it was a filly, but she couldn't be sure. "That foal must of been born right after the last time we saw them" Grace whispered. They watched the herd. Crazy was vigilant. Lady Godiva seemed to be a very diligent auntie, keeping an eye on the your one as if it were her own. Skye was absorbed in the moment. She'd forgotten all about the name thing. Grace hadn't. "So" Grace continued as the herd retreated slowly to higher ground, "I'm going to name you." "Wha...okay..." "Little. From here forward you are Skye Little. That's a perfectly respectable name." Skye pondered her new name for a moment. "That's...your name...so...so we're sisters now for sure." Skye felt her arms turn like chicken skin even though the sun was awfully warm. She'd lost a name and gotten a new one and more or less been adopted, all in the space of a few minutes. # January 24, 2022 The wind had finally subsided. The day was beautiful. The snow melt that filled the creek was cold, but the air was warm, and the horses were fit, and needing some exercise. Mares and geldings made up the small herd. Once upon a time the creek in Chilao ran for most of the year. Those days were over. Grace didn't want to miss this opportunity to experience the cold, clear water. The creek crossing was the easy part. Some rigorous terrain lay on the loop Grace chose through Chilao. Skye lead the way on the mare Dani Girl as they returned to the ranch, through the recent burn. Grace brought up the rear on Jesse. The whole endeavor had gone without a hitch, until right then. Without warning, Charmer bolted. In a flash he was off, running full speed over the rugged terrain, running for the sheer joy of running. Grace went after him on Jesse. Skye worked to hold the rest of the horses together on the bank of the seasonal stream that fed Chilao Creek. Grace heard the unmistakable sound of a helicopter as L.A. County Fire made a pass directly overhead. And Charmer ran even faster. Jesse gave it everything he had, trying to close the gap on the bigger, longer legged, made to run Charmer. And then, Charmer made a sweeping turn, back toward the herd. Past Grace and Jesse, past the other horses, past Skye and Dani Girl, plunging himself into the stream, leading the way home. And the rugged land fell silent again. What a ride! Back at home, Skye had found the rest of the deer herd, and solved their tipping issues, although not before the fawn had sustained some minor injuries in a tip-over and fall. It would be all right. Nothing Skye couldn't repair. 1.29.22 Grace and Skye watched the sunrise unfold. "What do you think?" Skye asked. "There's some clouds in there" Grace answered. "If you paint it, you could title it 'suspicious skies.' I think it would be hard to paint though." It wasn't quite as warm as it had looked when they went out to see the sunrise - 39 degrees. Jackets probably would have been a good idea. As Skye tried to get warm, Grace produced a shiny gold box. "This package came for you yesterday Skye." Packages were always exciting. Skye read the tag out loud. "To Skye from Little Elecktra." And then she made short work of the packaging. A new shirt, custom made for Skye, a commemoration of very sad events in Indian Country as the graves of hundreds of boarding school children were being unearthed in Canada, and yet an affirmation in the same breath. Every Child Matters, it read, with a bear paw beneath the words. "I love this. I love it. I love it. I'm going to try so hard to keep it clean." Except for the sun's rise and the sun's setting, Saturday was cold and cloudy, but at Studio Skye, things were happening. Deer things. As Skye settled in to paint, Grace noticed the clouds taking on color, and went outside just in time to catch the last few moments of the sunset, with its strange and glorious beams of light. 1.30.22 Sunday morning found Skye back in the studio. "I have more work to do on the fawn still." "While you're waiting for the paint to dry, let's go for a ride" Grace said. "I want to see if we can find Petrichor, and if he still has two mares." "Can I ride Dani Girl again?" "Sure." The wind picked up just as the girls approached the rugged pass that Petrichor frequented. Skye held Gunner while Grace traversed the jagged rocks. The wind made it difficult to know for sure, but Grace thought she heard what might be horses, so she pressed on. Her persistence paid off. soon her beloved Petrichor came into view. Petrichor appeared conflicted. He recognized Grace; his ears swiveled forward and sideways and his muzzle twitched, but he would remain at a distance. After a few moments, he turned and trotted away from Grace over the rough terrain. He returned to his small band, and together they slipped away into the wild land. At least she saw him, and the new mare and foal. They all appeared to be well, and Petrichor seemed to become more and more like a real wild stallion as his herd grew. Grace noticed the singe and the greening in the controlled burn. The heat singe in the trees can take a while to be visible. And likewise it can take a while to be replaced by fresh pine needles. The yuccas were already greening up. Skye was quick to return to her studio when the ride was over. Grace soon followed. "Should I add flowers to the doe and fawn? Or something to the buck?" "I like them they way they are" Grace replied. "What was your goal in painting these?" "I was hoping to show them as part of the landscape. You know the way you can be looking right at them and not see them, or the way they appear out of nowhere on the highway." "I would leave them just as they are then" Grace replied. "You have achieved an...organic cohesiveness, if you will...with the colors, a natural simplicity that says, I think, what you intended to say with minimal explanation." Skye liked the sound of "organic cohesiveness." And so it was. Another piece for the barn art show completed, and January brought to a close. January 3, 2022 Grace and Skye slogged on foot to the creek, in the burn footprint, where a rapidly melting layer of snow was still thick in some places, alternately icy, then hard enough to walk on top of. They came to see who had made fresh and un-shod hoof prints in the snow. They did not have to wait long to lay eyes upon an absolutely stunning mare. She was energetically flanked by the stallion Grace suspected was sporting some draft horse DNA, Highlander. His mare was not remarkably cooperative, and Highlander's squeals attracted the attention of another draft-influence stallion...Petrichor. There were some more squeals and some posturing and pawing, but all from a considerable distance. Petrichor and the bay mare moved off. The dun mare seemed as if she wanted to follow them. The bay mare seemed reluctant to leave. Petrichor insisted. Highlander and the dun mare headed down the draw. The mare seemed far more interested in the other horses than her suitor. Perhaps the bay mare was known to her. Whatever was the case, she was keeping Highlander on his toes. There was succulent new grass growing in the burn footprint. For a short while, the bay mare grazed. But it wasn't long before she started walking. Following Highlander and the dun mare. Petrichor followed his mare, uneasily. Grace and Skye tried to follow, but the path the horses chose was more suited for hooves than boots. It was a sculptural jumble of rocks, mud, water tunnels, sand, ice and deadfall, uniquely beautiful and ever-changing...and dang hard to navigate. It was not long before the horses out-paced the girls and vanished into the soggy, blackened landscape. January 8, 2022 They were in open country, and there wasn't any place to hide, so Grace and Skye just tried to be still. This time they were on the trail of Petrichor's band, and they were in for more surprises. Another new mare, with a jet-black foal. The stallions had more or less worked out territories. Petrichor stayed close to the ranch, and right now, it was good country to be a wild horse. The new mare and foal had probably wandered into his domain. The mare put herself between Petrichor and her foal. Her instinct to be with a herd was strong, but her parenting instinct was equally strong. Stallions do not always accept foals sired by other stallions. The black foal was not a newborn...he was strong and agile. The horses danced around for a while, the pale mare nervous about her foal. Eventually the bay mare started to move off, the foal started to follow, and pretty soon there was a loose sense of order. While Petrichor and the bay mare were accustomed to Grace and Skye, the new herd members were not so relaxed. The girls followed on foot at a distance. watching the horses use the seasonal stream bed like a trail, wondering how common it was for a palomino mare to have a black foal. Then, without warning, the bay mare changed her course and her calm tempo. In a few bounding strides she was out of the creek bed and galloping away, the rest of her herd close behind, disappearing into the boulder strewn landscape. The rest of the day went by quickly. As evening approached, Skye stared at the most frightening thing an artist regularly encounters...a blank surface. In this case, watercolor paper. She was hoping to recreate the sunset she'd seen the night before but couldn't quite photograph. Or maybe the moon, with stars in the sky beyond. Meanwhile, across the studio, a small herd of model horses waited patiently. Two of them would be chosen for this year's NaMoPaiMo. It was Skye's first time using watercolors on watercolor paper. This was going to be harder than it first appeared. January 9, 2022 Skye painted until the wee hours of morning. The second work was as delicate as the first one was heavy. Outside a cold wind blew as the sun's rays crept slowly across the tree tops. Seemed like it had been blowing for days. And it appeared that Skye would be sleeping for a while. Every ranch manager, no matter how good they are, will occasionally make indefensible decisions. Like going out for a trail ride alone on a windy morning...on a spirited stallion, using that squeaky, stiff new saddle that didn't have a back cinch and that didn't want to give on the left stirrup...without a coat, or gloves... ...all of which Grace forgot about fairly quickly when she came upon Highlander and the dun mare. Highlander and the mare moved away at first, Highlander flanking the mare. And then, Highlander spun around to face Grace and Gunner. An excellent time, Grace decided, to spin around also. Skye was having far less adventure in the studio. Three out of three pieces did not come out as she envisioned them. Especially the last piece. It got away from her quite entirely, and she was completely perplexed. What on earth to do now. Skye went looking for Grace, and found her in the new tack room, having just finished putting a waterproof sealant inside of the terra cotta pots that they had finished painting just as the Bobcat fire erupted in September, 2020. There were 27 sets of hand painted pots. And one finished set. Over the coming months, Grace planned to finish all of them. "We have plenty of time" Grace explained, "but I thought I'd start preparing now for the upcoming shows...Models in the Mountains, and eventually The Collective..." "I forgot how pretty these are!" Skye said. And she forgot all about her own painting troubles for a while. "Do you want to help me get them photographed?" "Sure!" The girls had narrowed it down to four potential horses for NaMoPaiMo. Grace gave the arab mare a good study. Skye was thinking this was her number one NaMoPaiMo choice. She wanted to try chestnut, or bay. And she wasn't completely sure, but she thought she might want to try paint as opposed to earth pigments. Grace was leaning toward the mustang stallion resin she had received as a prize for winning the MEPSA Mini Challenge. It was a highly accurate and detailed sculpt. They both loved the resin drafter, and the resin draft foal, but both of those models still needed a lot of work. They were kind of stuck. Grace resolved the afternoon's dilemma. "Let's prep them all" she suggested. "We still have a little under three weeks to register. Maybe by the time we're done prepping we'l be able to make up our minds." Skye had pretty much decided on the arab mare. Just not what color, or if and how much white. Grace was still on the fence. January 16, 2022 Grace and Skye listened for the sound of hooves, or breath, or the crackle of brush. The plucky sabino mare that had briefly belonged to Petrichor took the lead. Crazy brought up the rear. The horses traversed a rock ledge that lead to a small meadow, moving single file down the rock face. And there was a new mare in the middle. The sounds Grace and Skye waited for came in the form of squeals as Crazy pawed at the soft earth. Grace noted that the sabino mare was looking rather plump. Something seemed to be upsetting Crazy. The small herd milled about while Crazy pawed and postured. Then, they moved away, departing as suddenly as they had appeared. The new mare looked much too calm to be in Crazy's family. When the girls rode down to where the horses were, they saw droppings...probably those of another stallion, hence his squealing and displeasure. The new mare raised a lot of new questions. Could she be related to the sabino mare? These family groups that were forming now had thus far seemed random...Highlander's mare and Petrichor's mare seemed to know each other. Petrichor's second mare, the palomino with the black foal, assimilated smoothly. Maybe it wasn't random at all. Maybe these family bands were reassembling after some sort of disturbance. After the horses moved off, the girls passed and pondered. The day was lovely. Like winter was done and spring had sprung. January 17-22 The girls had other plans for today. But a 30% chance of showers turned into actual rain. That almost never happens. Indoor projects would have to keep them busy. For days, as it turned out. Because once the rain was over, the wind came, and the wind did not stop until January 22. And when it finally did, it was night already. Skye fussed with a terra cotta deer. "Weren't there three of those?" "There are" Skye replied. "I...just can't remember where I put the other two." "You are way too young to be forgetting where you put large, heavy objects." Grace was bored. Really bored. All of the NaMoPaiMo candidates were in what Grace sure hoped was their last coat of primer. Maybe they would need another coat of primer but please, please, no more prepping. It had been far too windy to be outside, and cold. She stared unenthusiastically at wood siding selections on the internet. "Okay" Skye announced, "I'm going to try something with this doe. But she's tippy. How can I fix that?" "Make a base for that leg with two part epoxy. Make it like grass or something." "Should I paint her first? No, I should make the base first, right?" "I think I would make the base first. Otherwise almost certainly you'll do an amazing job painting her, and she'll fall over and break." At least it would keep Skye busy for part of the evening. # December 11, 2021 Petrichor and the bay mare picked their way through the burn. The ground was cool except for a few places where dense layers of dead wood still smoldered in the cold morning air. A light breeze moved the smoke through the trees at dawn. The landscape was reborn...known to the horses, and yet unfamiliar. It was a controlled burn of piles with some minimal landscape modification. Grace surveyed around the ranch as soon as the sun was up. A good portion of the burn piles had been addressed , particularly near homes and structures and in the most heavily used recreation areas. The cold air kept the smoke close to the ground overnight, dissipating with dawn's warmth. The burn opened up the seasonal stream behind the ranch. Grace rode along the burn edge, noting rock formations she had never seen before. This area was open for the first time in memory. It was endlessly rugged, and lovely. Grace marveled at the precision of the burn. She also noted that the birds seemed unbothered, even in areas where there was still some smoke. Grace was already gone when Skye woke up. That was all right. Skye had been wanting to put her ribbon dress back on and practice the steps she saw the other ladies doing. They were graceful and measured. They were reserved and yet somehow they flowed. And always the women stood up tall in their dresses. Grace watched Skye for a few moments, realizing how little she knew about what the dance was supposed to look like, but It appeared that Skye had watched very carefully. She did recall something about northern and southern styles of dance, but not the nuances that separated them. "Tomorrow morning let's go for a ride through the burn area" Grace said after watching for some time. Hobo perked up his ears. "Okay" Skye said. "Let's do it." They were up before the dawn on December 12, investigating the controlled burn. USFS firefighters had burned carefully around the ranch, the nearby buildings and the creek bed. Grace made sure Skye got to see the way the smoke played with the sunlight in the trees. They headed for some trees along the creek bed. Grace had been learning what she could from the firefighters when they did their burns. "The first time I saw the base of a tree with fire at the bottom of it, I freaked out a little" Grace said. "But it turns out a small amount of fire at a tree's base can help harden the tree and make it more resilient." "So these trees are going to be fine?" "Maybe" Grace replied. "They were already stressed pretty bad. Remember we thought the big one was going to die before autumn? And then it got a little rain and seemed to rally. If they die it won't be from the burn. It will be because they were already compromised." Grace pointed out the yucca. "These will green right back up. Like literally, in a few days we are supposed to get rain and I bet if we go out and look at these after the rain we will see new green." "This is a rare moment in time" Grace explained. "This burn will never again look exactly as it does this morning. The wind will change it, and we have rain coming, and new growth will push through the soil. Take a good look around, because this will be completely different after the rain." And as she looked around, Grace saw a path through the boulder-strewn landscape. Beyond the controlled burn and the firebreak, tall stands of manzanita interspersed with coulter pines and yucca glowed dusty green, and the rising sun shone warm through the cold morning air. A cacophony of sound followed the girls wherever they went. The scrub jays recognized Skye, and they were keen not to let her forget how much they looked forward to being fed. It was still fairly early in the morning when they returned home, and still fairly chilly inside. "That was incredible" Skye said. I want to keep going back and seeing how the landscape changes." December 18, 2021 Skye was awake as the moon was setting, just before dawn. it wasn't too much colder outside than it was inside, except for a gusting wind that made taking a proper picture of the moon pretty much impossible. It was fun to try though. When the sun got high enough, Grace and Skye took a walkabout to see what they could see. And of course, as soon as they committed to taking a walk instead of riding, the wind stopped and the day warmed. Mojo the cat was with them for their excursion. And Mojo decided to do a rather un-cat-like thing...walking on water. Skye just had to give it a try. "Hold on to Baron" Grace said from the soft silt of the creek bed, trying hard not to sink boot-deep into the loose soil. The ice was very slippery, and very clear, and it was melting fast, and the cracking of its surface was alarmingly loud. The stream bank was slippery too, but thank goodness nobody was looking when Grace lost her battle with it. Later in the day, as the last light fell upon the meadow below the ranch, Skye noted a stump, and then another...new stumps, she was pretty sure. If memory served her correctly, last she had looked, they were still-standing trees. The landscape seemed to be in a state of constant change, and it seemed accelerated now. When evening came, silent and windless, Skye tried once again to photograph the moon rise. Her results were much improved. The moon and the trees and the night seemed...particularly magical. December 19, 2021 Before the day got too busy, the girls took a ride through another portion of the controlled burn. Grace opted to ride one of Skye's favorite mares, Deer Medicine. It was nice, being able to ride through a more open country, and the recent rain had glued the ashes to the soil. Skye had quite the reputation among the local wildlife, and they followed along expectantly, hoping for bird seed handouts. Even a California Thrasher joined the fray! The ride was quiet, and pleasant, and uneventful. The day that followed would be full of activity and visitors and work and distractions. Skye was already asleep that evening when Grace noticed that Baron wasn't in the room, or just outside, or anywhere that she could find him. And that was very strange. Grace found him...out on the fire break, well past dark. He was calm, and warm despite the night's oncoming cold. Baron was a mixture of happy to see Grace, and nervous...as if he was quite aware being out by himself was not okay. There were a million questions in Grace's mind...how long had he been out wandering alone and when had she seen him last and how could that happen to her heart dog. When she brought him back inside he seemed ever so slightly aloof, or perhaps still a bit nervous...just not quite himself. Well. Everyone was accounted for now, and Grace was definitely awake. All eyes were upon her, except for Skye, who slept soundly. This would be as good a time as any to get some things in order for Christmas...such as it was. She really didn't have anything that was actually a gift for Skye. But she had planned a little surprise of sorts, if she could pull it off. Not that she felt very confident at the moment. December 20, 2021 Weather was coming. Grace had wanted to wait at least one more day, to be a little closer to Christmas, but rain was on the way. It was now or never. She brought Skye out to the big arena just before daybreak...but she'd worked most of the early morning to get Skye's little herd there ahead of time. Everyone was ready. As they walked, she told Skye about losing Baron. At first Skye was distracted. She knew something was happening...the dogs weren't in the house, Grace, normally quiet, was talking up a storm...then her story started to sink in. How scary it would be to lose a dog. Your favorite dog in the world. Skye tried hard to listen. The tree in the arena was...well, a fake tree, non-edible, which the horses were quick to decipher. But the box was moving. Grace stretched the Baron story as far as she could before losing Skye's attention completely. The box was moving a lot now. White Dog got brave and looked inside. The box really started moving. There was a sudden burst of commotion, horses and dogs scattering...And re-grouping. The contents of the box revealed itself just as the girls approached, just as the sun crested the ridge. The pups...the pups Grace had seen in November at PetCo, hitherto still not adopted...tumbled out of the box. Bringing the total number of dogs to ten...or twelve, if you counted the shepherd pups that went to live with the ranch owner. Seemed like they might fit right in. And the tree was pretty cool too. Skye watched the animals interacting with the new pups. And the tree. She was fascinated by the artificial tree. She'd never seen anything quite like it. "Did you make this Grace?" "Ummm...no." "Well it's awesome, even if you didn't make it yourself." December 4, 2021 Grace and Skye went to Redbird's blanket drive and mini powwow. They got there early enough to see it slowly unfold. It seemed a bit like a family reunion. Then the sound of bells on the dancers and the activity level began to intensify. There were a number of drums.* When they were ready, a singer came from one of the drums** and spoke about what would happen next. Special songs would be sung for certain reasons and then the dancers would come out. The songs began. The dancers came out. They danced in different ways but the drum orchestrated their steps. The drums...they were the center of it. The sound had a reach beyond one's ears. The sound got inside of you somehow. It seemed there were different styles of dance for different songs, and everyone knew them. Women danced some dances and men danced others. There were a lot of children dancing, and they were showered with encouragement. Grace often noted that some of the adults - particularly the men wearing what she presumed were eagle feathers - would stand when others were dancing...even the young children. Skye went out for the last round of intertribal songs. Just to see what it felt like. And finally, they got to hang out with the (virtual) Kat Warren, UCR Powwow Princess...they just didn't have any scissors handy to free her from her background. #sliceofucrroyalty #travelingprincess #ambassadortogo The gathering was only a few hours...four or so...but the girls really tied to lean all that they could and take it all in. And as a result, they were exhausted. "I'm just going to get under the covers for a few minutes, to warm up" Skye said. It was late by the time the girls got home. Their room was cold and even though they'd spent most of the day just taking in the sights and sounds, they were tired. "Good idea." *Blue Star, Bear Springs and Hale and Company joined us as well as the calderon family as vendors, and Carla Tourville and Chuck Cadotte of Soaring Eagle Enterprises, as vendors. It was Redbird's 26th mini powwow and blanket drive and one of the first local, family powwows to happen since Covid. **Ben Hale of the Hale and Company drum served as our MC. everything about the blanket drive is done by volunteers. As we did not have a formal grand entry (head man, head woman, flags, etc) the way the drums chose to orchestrate the gathering was to sing the honoring songs while the dancers stood and then, when those honoring songs had been observed, all the dancers came in together. The blanket drive was our most successful ever. It took weeks to ship all of the donations we received. |