High Summer

August 4, 2024
Moving the horses across the tall grass cut wasn't ideal, but it was the only option the girls had on a Sunday in high summer. There was too much vehicle traffic on the campground roads.

It was difficult to discern the footing.  Skye chose to ride the little red pony, Mischief, because on the trail she was exceptionally sure-footed and level-headed.

Grace rode Clay, the chestnut appaloosa.  Anoush took out her favorite mare, Luna, and dealt with the too-short stirrup leathers most graciously.  Anahit and Lousin rode Precious and Tex, respectively.

The conversation moved from the heat, which at 5 PM was still 90 degrees in the shade, to wild horses.

"Are they really wild?" Anoush asked.   Lousin listened for the answer.

"They are mustangs" Grace answered.

Anoush did a low, modified post. She looked perfectly comfortable without using stirrups.

"You have some pictures of them in your room" Anoush continued. "One of them looks like a draft horse."

Birds were busy foraging in the evening light.


"We call him Highlander" Grace said, "because he does appear to have some draft influence."

"Are you able to approach them?" Anoush asked.

Grace wasn't sure how she wanted to answer the question.

"We have gotten fairly close to them on occasion" Grace finally replied. "But you know," she continued, "I'm usually riding La Barilla, or some other stallion, so I don't push my luck. Just seeing them from a distance is a thrill."

Grace found herself reluctant to talk about Petrichor.


Skye rode up more or less alongside Anoush, sensing the awkwardness in Grace's voice.

"There's also a picture of two other wild horses on our wall" Skye volunteered. "Rain Man and Storm. Big bachelor stallions. Always going at it with each other. We've never gotten super close to those guys."

"Then where did those pictures come from?"

"The boss" Skye replied. "She likes to take pictures. Like, a LOT of pictures. "

Grace watched Skye's old black mare. She was slowing down.

A stand of thistle remained uncut, dry brown former flowers now brittle bundles of seed.  Skye watched as a swallowtail butterfly moved purposefully through the mass of yellow-brown, and found a still-pink flower.

August 10
There was no romance to riding the cut in the mid afternoon sun. The temperature had quietly climbed back up to 90 in the shade, but Grace and Skye had an excuse to ride, so they did.

They had the day, the space, the world to themselves, at least for now.

"I talked to the boss" Skye said,
"about the wild horses and Anoush asking questions."

"Yeah?"

"I told her I was struggling with it. You know, like not wanting to share but feeling guilty. But really mostly not wanting to share."

"And?"

"She said a couple things that made me feel better. She said the day that girls don't want to see wild horses, our way of life and maybe even the planet is pretty much doomed. Which is kind of what Francis Loop Caldwell said back in the 1980s."

"Excellent point."

"She also said it's why she doesn't go with us to see the wildies....because it has become a sort of personal and private thing for us, I mean, we always share with her, but the experience...that's really become a sort of...almost a ritual for us. So, both realities are real."

The girls rode out of the cut, past the ranch buildings, out onto the bluff that overlooked the campground and Chilao Road.  A tiny, scruffy little bird filled the world with a cacophony of sound.

"I feel like we always end up back here when we're looking for a camping spot."

"It's a great spot" Grace responded. "And it's especially great right now with this breeze, and with shade."

La Barilla was particularly animated.

"Do you know what's going on this evening?"
Skye wondered.

"I guess some people are coming up to watch the meteor shower."

"So we're setting up their camp?"

"The boss's camp. She said she wanted to try taking pictures. We're welcome to join her."

"That sounds like fun. Let's do it."

As evening approached the girls traded their four legged mounts for the Pavement Queen, and a truckload of amenities.

"This is the biggest tent I've ever seen in my life" Skye exclaimed.

"How many tents have you seen in your life?"

"Okay, well, there's that, but this is big."

Grace smiled.

"You know" Skye continued, "We'd see a lot more meteors if we just lay in the back of the truck."

Skye was right. Grace paused for a moment.

Then she carried on.

"The boss said she wanted to try out the tent. Said she'd never used it. I guess it sets itself up. You lean it upright and pull that string and it pops up."

"Oh cool! I can't wait to see that!"

But opening the tent would have to wait a moment. As the temperature ever so slowly began to fall and the day's last light played on the landscape, a trailer arrived.

Grace signed for the contents. A welsh cob gelding. He was active, glorious, golden.

"Who is this?" Skye said with interest. "He's a mover!"

"Don't get too attached to him" Grace said. "Welsh cobs aren't rare that I know of, and he's a gelding, so I can't imagine the boss plans on keeping him long."

"Look at him go!"

He had great action, he was well put together, and Skye couldn't help but imagine he would be fun to ride.

"Where's he going?"  Skye asked.  "I mean, where are we going to put him?"

"At the right now moment, nowhere" Grace replied. "I don't know where the boss wants to put him, so we'll just leave him here for now. Maybe get him some water. We don't have a lot of daylight left to get that tent set up."

The tent slid off the truck easy enough. For its size, it was surprising light. A gentle breeze cooled the evening. The girls stood the tent upright, steadying it from two sides.

"Can I pull the cord?" Skye asked.

"Sure."

The tent flew open, propelling itself off the ground and into the evening breeze, immediately rolling toward the gulley just below the camp site.  But what a tent it was once the girls had secured it. Skye loved it. The dogs were a bit slower to accept it.

The boss rolled in at dark, waving to the girls as she passed, seeing the tent, smiling a broad, excited smile.

"It's going to be a great night for a meteor shower" Skye exclaimed. Setting moon, clear skies..."

They would have to take a moment to get the new horse settled into a stall first. While the outdoor arena was well lit, they'd be needing to turn off the lights pretty soon to accommodate their star gazing party.

They did see meteors, though nothing like 100 per hour as was predicted. The boss didn't catch any of them with her camera. But it was sure fun to try.

August 11
Grace watched the boss photographing Shades of Jolie. Her love for the big, gentle mare was obvious.

Photo after photo in the pleasant summer evening light. Grace wondered where Skye was. Lately the photo sessions were of special interest to her as she tried to learn the ropes with the camera the boss had given her.

There was just enough time to get out one more horse, and she was all made up for her photo shoot. Another one of the boss's favorite big girls, Scottish Magpie. Shadows soon began to swallow the arena's light.

The mare flicked her ears about, glanced around as she moved across the area, sensing something.

Skye made her appearance, a rogue grand entry, thundering in on the new cob gelding. Obviously Skye knew she was interrupting a photo shoot. Obviously the boss must've given her permission to ride the new horse. Grace watched, silent.

The mare stretched out her big trot. She looked pleased to have some company in the arena.

"Kids" the boss said, smiling. "Whatcha gonna do."

August 17
Sunlight crept across the landscape.

Grace and Skye stood motionless. Among the rocks, sound echoed. It could be difficult to pinpoint the exact location of a horse, or horses, but the girls were quite certain there was one close by. Very close by.  They waited.  Impossible to tell exactly where the noises were coming from.  They decided to keep moving.

Their boots made tapping sounds on the rock, scuffle sounds in the loose gravel.

There was a sudden burst of motion, sound, color. Skye jumped back.

A flashy pinto stallion burst out in front of them, leaping over a pile of deadfall, scrambling out of sight in a few sure-footed steps.

He was easy to follow, making plenty of sound as he galloped away from Mustang Rock, out into the clearing.  He paused to assess the threat, reared up as if to challenge the girls, now that he was safely well away, and then disappeared into the forest.  Back among the rocks, there was silence.  

First light moved across Chilao.  Skye was looking at the side of the school and smiling as they walked back to the ranch.

"What?" Grace asked.

"Huh?"

"What's going through your head? What are you looking at?"

"Oh! That shadow of the tree on the side of the school. It's there every morning but I just never get tired of it. It's like a reminder every morning that we're here in the forest, and not somewhere else. And it's just particularly sort of magic, how crisp and well defined that shadow is. Just for a few minutes. Like a painting almost."

Skye sighed, and smiled again. "That's all."

August 25
There was still another month of summer, but shades of autumn were becoming evident.  It was the first day off the girls had had in recent memory. They rode away from the cut, into the canyons above the northern boundary of the property.

"So what is this ranch western pleasure class, and how come we never heard of it?" Skye asked.

"I'm not sure how I'd never heard of it, I think it started as a recognized class in 2013. Ranch rail and ranch trail. Hang on, let me focus for a second."

Grace and La Barilla navigated the rather steep and narrow passage that the mustangs often used in the summer.    Most of it was easy to navigate, but this one section required attention and mutual trust.  La Barilla placed his hooves carefully.

"I think there's a lot of money in the more recognized western pleasure. Higher competition level. Whether I like it or not, a high level of training goes into those pleasure horses and there's a lot of money invested in their tack and the rider's appearance. Woops!"

"Are you okay?"

"Yup. The long reins are coming off the horn. I can fix it."

"Would you ride in ranch rail or trail?"

"Sure."

"Would you ride La Barilla?"

"I could, but he wouldn't place. He's an acquired taste, even for Spanish horse lovers. Way too active."

"He's awful shiny today Grace."

Grace smiled. "I put Show Sheen Golden Glow on him."

"Could I ride in ranch rail or trail?"

"You could" Grace said. "We'd need to get you a nice button down western shirt. And a hat that doesn't look like you're hunting alligators."

Sky squealed with laughter.

They had come to the vista hoping to see horses, but the landscape was quiet. The air was deliciously cool, the sun's light becoming a little less direct and harsh. Surely there would be more summer days to come. But right now today was as perfect as they could ask for. After all the trouble of reaching the vista point, they would have to turn around and leave the way they came. But they could take their time. They had all day.

On the flat, they were reminded that although the weather was delicious and benign, they were still in Chilao, home of all the wild things.  There was the track of what was likely a large rattlesnake in the sand, 

​The horses became suddenly reactive as they crossed the flat.

Grace thought she saw movement in the rocks above. She brought La Barilla around for another look.  The mare's silhouette against the sky came into view.  Highlander's dun mare.  

"Ladyhawk is all excited!" Skye said. And then she saw the colt.

The dun mare's leggy, golden colt.  He had followed a narrow path down the rock face. Too narrow for the dam to follow.

The dun mare started after her colt, stopped, backed up. There was room for her hooves, but not her body.

The rest of the way down form where the colt stood was steep. Not very long or high, but really quite steep.

The mare tried another passage through the rocks.

The colt started down, slow, uncertain.  The mare found her way through.

The dun mare arrived just as the colt reached the bottom of the rock face. He had stumbled and scraped his nose, but his long legs were uninjured and he'd stayed more or less on his feet. He'd survived what would likely be one of many encounters with the unforgiving landscape.

Reunited, Highlander's band moved northward, deeper into the back country.

Highlander spun around to make sure his band was not being followed.  Grace and Skye stayed on the flat, content to watch from a distance as the herd vanished over the rock ridge and out of sight.

August 30
Light was fading fast.  Mustang Rock was swallowed in the shadows of dusk. They saw Thorn first.  Skye scrambled to get a picture.

Thorn moved off, back to Petrichor's orbit. The girls followed, staying low. Thorn had seen them.  Skye focused on the bay mare in the fading light. She wasn't particularly concerned about the girls.

Highlander's band was a little more uptight.

"If I recall" Grace whispered, "the dun mare does not like Thorn. I think that's what all the tension is about."

It was hard to pay attention to the behavioral dynamics of the two bands, and take pictures at the same time. Skye would try in the near-darkness to focus on a horse, then set the camera down and observe the bigger picture.

Grace strained to get a good look at Petrichor.
His visits were so infrequent lately.  it was not long before both bands vanished into the shadows of the forest.

Back at home, Grace and Skye poured over the images.  Skye's pictures were a bit dark, but overall, any horse lover would have been thrilled to see what she had seen, and to come home with these memories.

Skye frowned as she passed over image after dark image.  "Here" Grace said. "Use this tool. Auto adjust."

"Oh wow!"

"Now you can still tweak the highlights and shadows manually if you want."

"Oh wow!" Skye was pleased. Once corrected, Skye's pictures looked quite nice. Many of them were blurry, but the ones that came out in focus were worth the effort.

"I love the light on this one" Grace said.

Highlander. He was always active, and consequently a little hard to focus on in near darkness.

Skye squealed with delight. She got a good shot of the dun mare.  And her gangly young foal.

"Dunalino!" Skye exclaimed. "Right?"

"I think so" Grace responded. "A lot of dunalinos don't have pearly white manes and tails. I think you might be right. Here, let's zoom in on that one."

And then, pictures of Petrichor.

"Oh nice!" Grace said. "Did you get any close-ups of him?"

"That old nag?" Skye giggled. "I don't know."  There was a semi-close picture of Petrichor, but it wasn't quite perfect.

"It's a little blurry" Skye said.

"I like it" Grace replied. "Don't delete that one. It's moody."

The next few images of Petrichor were very blurry, as another horse inspired Skye's attention.

​"Oh great, you focus on Thorn." Grace smiled, teasing. Sort of.

"What do you suppose happened to her?" Skye asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Her face on her left side. There's no scars but it looks like something happened."

Grace shook her head. "Hard to say."

And then another picture of Petrichor.

"Oh that's nice" Grace said. "Let's zoom in on his head."

Grace stared for a long time. "I wonder what happened to his eye. There's no scarring around it...he's got plenty of other scratches and scuffs but nothing around the eye."

"Oh I love this one" Grace said. "Don't change a thing."  Highlander and the surrounding landscape, pink with dusk.

"Zoom in on this one...nice...good job Skye."  A close-up of Highlander, in perfect focus.

It was a very satisfying photos shoot, and encounter with the wild ones.  Skye could be pleased with her photographic work.

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