February 2, 2025
The morning was chilly, warming quickly to spring temperatures. Fleeting patches of snow clung to the shadows and the north facing slopes. The ground was damp and spongey.

Skye rode Comet confidently across the terrain. The mare had an amazing head on her shoulders, and a smooth, easy lope. When the melting snow was slippery, she slowed her pace accordingly.

Grace let Skye lead. It was good practice for La Barilla, who tended to want to be in front.

Atop Mustang Rock, two of the stone pools had water, and two were dry. Grace couldn't really figure why, except perhaps the wind. 

Skye was below the rock formation when she heard a vehicle on the road. It was the boss in the Pavement Queen. There was something in the back of the truck but Skye couldn't make out what it was.

Grace and La Barilla must've seen the truck before Skye did. She was surprised to see them circle the truck from the front.

The girls put their horses up and met the boss back at the truck, assuming they'd help unload. 

"I'm gonna have lunch first" the boss said. And then, "Hey, did you ladies get started on your NaMoPaiMo horses?"

Grace and Skye looked at each other. Skye responded. "We've been focused on getting horses out while the weather is nice. Since it's supposed to rain this coming week."

"All right! Well, I'll see you after lunch."

Grace and Skye examined their models for National Model Painting Month, or "NaMoPaiMo."

"Do you know what color you're going to do yours?" Grace asked. 

"I think I'm going to copy the boss and do a medicine hat. What about you?"

"I think I'm going to copy Heather Bullach and do a buckskin..."

The day was in fact lovely, so the girls turned out horses. First, Anamar, the lovely grey Amazigh, formerly known as a Moroccan Barb.  Then Angel and his fleet-footed Paso Fino sidekick.

"Have you ever ridden a Paso Fino?" Skye asked Grace. 

"I never have."

"Do you want to?" 

"Honestly someone would need to teach me how. They are incredibly smooth, but I wouldn't know how to ask them for their gaits."

A rogue gust of wind slung sand into the girls' faces. It was followed by more gusts as the warm afternoon air rose, restless and unbridled. This would be the last horse to turn out for the afternoon.

Back inside, Anoush, Anahit and Lousin arrived just as Grace and Skye were contemplating addressing their NaMoPaiMo ponies. It was a welcome diversion.

At a moment when their guests were talking among themselves, Skye leaned toward Grace. "Should we ask them to help us unload the truck?" Grace nodded.

Before anything was going to fit inside the tac room, they would need to move things. Saddles forward, everything that has been in the corner moved behind the saddles.

"These are so cute!" Anahit and Lousin sat in the new patio furniture the boss had returned with. For now they would have to be set aside while the hutch came in.

Grace and Skye struggled with a huge steel tub, full of all nature of stable supplies. They rested for a moment before moving the tub and its contents behind the saddles, along the wall.

Hutch, cabinet, mini tack room...once it was on the tack room floor, Lousin made short work of moving it by herself. "Just show me where you want it!"

"Where did all this come from?" Anoush asked. 

"A gift. A gift from Michelle Sepiol. We asked her to fix a saddle for us, and she sent us back a whole stable!"

Anahit opened the doors of the hutch. "I think those are saddle racks" Anahit said, peering inside. 

One final item to unload and put away. The box with the saddle. It was unusually heavy for an english saddle. Anahit pulled out the repaired saddle.

Lousin pulled out a lovely light colored english saddle. "Oh, this one is for a child! It's gorgeous! I think it's brand new."

Anoush pulled out the final saddle, resting it on the edge of the box, studying it. "This is a brand new saddle also."

Grace and Skye were silent.  Michelle's generosity and talent was really beyond words. 

The girls admired the new addition to the tack room. There was silence for a few moments. Then Anoush spoke.

"You...are very blessed, with very wonderful people in your life."

Grace nodded. "Yes."

February 8
Skye examined her NaMoPaiMo horse.
"I think I'm technically ready for paint" Skye said. "But. There's one little problem. I was going to do a pattern similar to what the boss is doing, and she doesn't know what she's doing yet."

"That is a problem" Grace replied. "I really like the base coat I have, but I missed some spots on the underside. I think I'll just do another base coat instead of trying to do little touch ups."


February 9
Daylight was better for painting models, but when Sunday dawned lovely and wind-still, painting wasn't what the girls had in mind.

Skye lead the way across the land north of the ranch on one of Grace's favorite all-around riding horses, Chili. Grace followed on the gelding the boss had picked up in September, after the Bridge fire. He was quiet, responsive, and easy to sit.

The ground had frozen overnight, thawing as the sun's warmth penetrated the soil. Skye watched the new gelding. He seemed relaxed, engaged, intelligent.

"I might not have chose the best saddle for him" Grace said. I feel like this one is pushing me forward a little bit."

The morning calm was interrupted by a fleeting flash of white on the not too distant horizon.

Not a wild horse. An escaped steer. 

"Skye, hold back a little and let me see what this guy's got as regards cattle." 

Skye reined in her mount, but Chili didn't want to be held back.

"He wants a piece of that beef!" Skye laughed.

Grace's mount seemed to know his way around cows. They were able to get the wayward steer turned around. Grace was holding the reins loosely, not offering any direction.

They brought the steer back to the ranch between them. 

"Think we'll keep him?" Skye asked.

"The horse or the steer?"

"The horse!"

"I don't know. He's pretty sweet..."

February 15
The wind tore across the landscape in erratic gusts, broken by long moments of stillness. Definitely not pleasure riding weather. Grace and Skye settled in to work on the NaMoPaiMo horses. 

"Skye, I thought you were doing a medicine hat, like the boss."

"Have you seen her horse? Full on frame. There's no way I'm attempting that. I'm doing a pale palomino with lots of white markings."

"I'm going to do the black points, I think" Grace mused out loud. "In pastel. So they don't stab you in the eye like the mane and tail does." 

Skye giggled, and giggled. And then Grace laughed too.

"Fun. This is supposed to be fun" Skye teased.

"Ladies..." the voice of the boss distracted the girls from their art. "Do you have a minute? I want to show off what I bought today. In the tack room."

In the tack room, the girls gazed upon a set of decorator model horses. "This one is sweet" Grace said, admiring what appeared to be a grey. The others were outlandish. But with rare exceptions, Grace was not a decorator girl. 

"He's prismatic!" the boss said with enthusiasm. "Oh you can't see it in this light. He is amazing! Maybe we should bring him somewhere else. I'd say outside but the wind..."

Skye examined the other three. The rearing horse was her favorite of those. And the blue horse...the blue was amazing, but she didn't care for the way the legs were painted. 

The boss chattered away. They were a set and no, she had no idea where she was going to put them, and it was a bit of an impulse purchase, but the prismatic grey...she just had to have it. And could they maybe take it where there was better light? She really wanted to show it off.

The light in the girls' room wasn't quite strong enough to bring out the rainbow effect in vivid detail, but they could see it. And it was, in fact, pretty amazing.

The pauses in between bursts of wind had lengthened by evening. Eager to be outside, the girls took their chances. 

"You should have told me you wanted to get all decked out" Skye said, admiring Anamar's "fantasia" regalia.*

"It wasn't that. I knew I wanted to get this guy out and I knew what fit him. In hindsight, I picked tack with all kinds of swinging, clanking tassles and ornaments. And I didn't adjust the stirrups well."

"I screwed up the cowboy knot on the bosal if that makes you feel any better. I couldn't get it right to save my life."

The horses were slightly uptight and reactive. It could have been the wind. Or a scent carried on the wind. Grace and Skye rode up to a lookout point, and surveyed the surroundings. They saw nothing. The coming of the wind was telegraphed in the pines. The gusts became stronger as the day's light faded. They decided to head back. A short ride, but a short ride is better than no ride.

The girls looked all about on the way back, and they looked at the ground, freshened by the recent rain. There were no tracks to see except the ones they'd made themselves. The land, except for the growling of the wind, was quiet.

*(Fantasia is a performance, a traditional exhibition of horsemanship in the Maghreb performed during cultural festivals and for Maghrebi wedding celebrations).

February 16
"Can you see them?" Grace whispered.

"I can't see anything. The sun is right in my eyes."

Crazy's band emerged.  Crazy brought up the rear.  The last rays of sunlight were warm and brilliant, the light constantly changing as tree shadows danced across the landscape.

Lady Godiva was bringing the band down onto the flat, heading north-east.

The girls were tucked safely in between narrow stone passages.

Crazy stopped, sensed something, snorted. The lead mare halted.

Crazy changed his mind abruptly about their direction, circling around his harem, herding them back into the shelter of the rocks.  There was a brief moment of chaos.

Something caught Skye's attention. Skye spun around and looked behind them.

A red tailed hawk passed close overhead.  Skye smiled.

Crazy's band moved up the rock escarpment, just below them.

Something about Crazy. He bristled with energy. The girls watched him, breathless. The path through the rocks was narrow. Crazy was the last one to clamber up into the passage.  And then they were gone.

The way back to the ranch was strewn with ravel and boulders. The girls placed their feet carefully. Skye watched their long shadows fall upon the uneven ground. She took a deep breath, and a deep exhale.

"Life is good" Skye said, smiling. "Life is good."

February 22
"I think I'm done" Grace said, looking at her Volo model. "I ran into the same issue you did."

"What issue?"

"I was more or less following along with Heather Bullach. I wanted to do a buckskin anyway, but I figured I'd learn so much if I followed her progress. And then she made her buckskin a pinto. It's gorgeous. But I'm not going there."

"Well, obviously, I've got a little ways to go" Skye said, "but I think I can finish in time." 

The animals were being a bit peculiar. Baron was playing king of the hill which displaced the normal bed dwellers, which created a lot of interest in the lower bunk bed.

Ginger kitty was having to share space with one of the barn cats who had been hanging around the house quite a bit lately. And taking the place of honor, Skye's place, on the bed. Ginger kitty wasn't certain how to handle the situation.

There was time enough for a late afternoon ride. The wind picked up as the sun was descending.  Grace rode Spin, the fire sale gelding.  

"You like that horse, huh?" Skye said.

"I do. But I'm cold."

"It's not that cold out. You're probably getting sick. That's probably why Baron was on your bed. He's always like that when you don't feel good."

"I don't feel sick. Just cold. Maybe I'll warm up when we get out of the wind."

The indoor arena wasn't warm, but the lack of wind made it feel warmer. 

"You should try him over poles!" Skye rode Comet over the ground poles at a lope. Comet was flawless.

"Do you think we can get a few halter pictures of him?" The boss's voice announced her arrival.

"Sure" Grace said. Let me get off of him now though before he gets all sweaty."

Grace watched the chestnut move. There was a quiet ease about him. Normally she liked a horse with a little more edge, but this boy was very easy to get accustomed to.

"Got time for one more?" Skye asked the boss.

"Sure!" 

Skye pulled Comet's bosal off and turned her loose. She loped her long, easy lope, ears forward, almost as if she knew she was being photographed.

"Meet me in the tack room?" the boss queried. 

"All right" Grace answered.


"I bought you two more saddle stands" the boss explained, "and Grace I bought you a vest. I don't know if it's your style..."

Grace pulled the vest on, struggled with her hood and the vest's tall collar. Looked at Skye and smiled.

"This vest is really warm."

"And it's beautiful!" Skye added. 

February 23
​Spin loped around the arena in measured circles. Click, click, click. The boss took picture after picture.

Skye turned to Grace, whispering. "How many pictures of this horse are we gonna take?"

"I heard that Skye" the boss said, smiling.

Click, click, click.

February 24
Before the morning sun had made it very far along the horizon, Grace and Skye turned out horses.

"These two have perfect head carriage" Grace said.

"But." Skye replied.

"Yes. But. Neither one of them is naturally inclined to hand gallop. We'd be pushing them out of their comfort zone."

Charmer, rich bay coat flashing hues of red in the morning light, was made of the opposite material. Out of hand gallop was his favorite gait. But he was high-headed, and that wasn't going to change. A martingale would just frustrate the situation.

Grace brought Windy Boy out next.  
"Didn't you ride him in Grand Entry last year?"
"I did" Grace replied. "He was the grand entry last year. He's all that. Speed, color, willingness. He is a little hard to stop. But we've got some time to practice."

The girls watched quietly as Firebird stretched her legs. She was a lot of horse. Definitely one of Skye's favorites, but not necessarily an easy ride.

"She's almost too much" Grace remarked.

Jesse was the last horse for the morning. 

"He's a maybe" Grace said. "I think we could make it work of we need to."

"What about Bryn? The cob?" Skye asked.

"Oh. Yeah. Hed' be perfect. But we don't have a saddle that fits him. He's a big boy."
                                                                                                                   #

December 1, 2024
Autumn light. It would just get better as the seasons moved into winter, and then early spring.

"Tanner thinks it's gonna be a warm, dry winter" Grace remarked as they surveyed the meadow from the backs of Clay and Rhea.

The girls headed back toward the ranch, taking a detour to walk Chilao creek, long since dry. For a Sunday afternoon on a holiday weekend, the forest was very quiet. Except for the sound of falling pinecones. Girls and horses alike became accustomed to the sound.

Western flickers and tiny little birds Grace could barely see were flustered with their presence in the creek bed.

The girls made one more stop before heading back to the ranch. They wanted to see if their horse thief was still hanging around.

They rode up to the place where Rain Man had been captured.  Skye thought she saw something move. But then nothing. All was quiet.

Grace rode into the rock ravine. The alfalfa hay was gone. There hadn't been much, just a dusting. Could have been rabbits, could have been the wind.

Skye rode in from the opposite direction.

The girls were quiet for a few moments. Grace eventually broke the silence.

"I guess all's well in the forest and everyone's gone home."

A cool breeze found its way between the rocks.

"I think the wind is sending us home" Skye said, turning her mare and heading back out the way she had entered.

The filly was for a moment separated from her mother by Grace's horse. She let out a nervous whinny.

"Take it easy Revv. We'll let you go first" Grace reassured her.

December 8
Grace and Skye watched the newly formed band of horses from a granite perch.
The sun hadn't crested the mountain yet, and the chill of the evening lingered, particularly in the granite, it seemed.

"I'm gonna call this herd the unhappy campers" Skye said. She didn't need to be very quiet. The horses were making plenty of noise.

"Do you suppose that big sabino mare is the lead mare?" Skye asked.

"I'm not sure" Grace responded. "She might just have the least tolerance for all this trouble, especially with a foal."

The big bay mare had joined the herd...sort of. There was a lot of uneasiness between her and Storm, the tyrant stallion. The scruffy little roan mare seemed to feel about the same, but she was still under his unwavering authority.  The Newcomer and his mare and foal were also still with them, at a distance.

Daybreak came at last.  The sun's warmth was welcome.

Grace turned to Skye. "Storm keeps his distance from that bay mare" she said.

"Yeah he does" Skye answered. "Probably wise. She doesn't look like she's in love with him."

Rain Man was also still with the band, although he was no longer constantly sparring with Storm. He would flank the mares and move with them, but he was not remotely as aggressive as Storm. And it was just good to see him free.

December 10
The days were so short. Grace and Skye took the opportunity to go for a late afternoon ride on Sunday. The forecast called for winds to come in the next 24 hours. So they rode while they could.

The big cob gelding seemed to thoroughly enjoy being out in the countryside, perhaps more than Skye anticipated.

"Do you want to trade bridles?" Grace asked, noting that the bosal didn't seem to be offering Skye much braking power.

"I think I'm okay" Skye responded. "He's sort of like a fancy plow horse!"

The ravens were active, and loud, and the girls kept expecting to see something...coyote, bear or perhaps another bird of prey...but they never did.  

Tanner seemed to be right about the weather, Grace noted as they rode. It seemed the warm, dry cycle was returning. Although the month was still young. Snowfall usually came around December 26, so there was still hope.

The girls mulled through the tack room after their ride.  The tack room was relatively in order again. Only La Barilla's saddle remained out by his stall. Perhaps Skye was right, and there was another saddle stand hidden somewhere.

"We'll have to move everything again when Anoush brings her kids up for a play day" Skye remarked.

"I don't think that's going to happen until the new year" Grace replied. "I'm just glad to have things more or less back in order."

The girls headed back to the house, where two pewter cast models awaited them, unpainted.  Grace searched through the tool box and found a file, slightly bent but perfectly viable.

"I think this will be faster than sand paper on the little spurs of material" she told Skye.

"Do we prep these just like resins or plastic ponies?" Skye was none too sure what to do with a metal horse. "And are we sure we want to make these our NaMo ponies?"

Grace studied the foal. "Well, we might as well try. And the boss said she was going to primer her NaMo horse this week, so if we get ours prepped, she'll primer them for us. And maybe then they won't look so scary."

"Maybe" Skye replied. "Right now I'm pretty scared."

December 15
Skye went out to watch the moonrise. A meteor shower was under way, and Skye imagined how fun it would be to watch another meteor shower, perhaps this time from the back of the Pavement Queen. But this time, they would need all of their blankets...because it was chilly at night now.

December 16
Grace and Skye were surprised to find the boss in the arena by herself. She was fiddling with the fill lights. The wrinkles on her brow suggested that she wasn't getting what she wanted.

"Hey" she greeted the girls and after a few moments, let the lights alone and turned toward them.

"Getting ready for a photo shoot?" Skye asked.

The boss began with a deep sigh. "Yes. Oh my gosh. This is not what I wanted, not at all. But yesterday was so bad. I can't go through that again."

"What happened yesterday?" Grace asked.

"I was going to take pictures of this mare for a client. Got her out to an arena Tanner set up, on the hill, got her into the arena, no problem. And then before I got a single picture, all hell broke loose. This mare...she exploded, and she basically did a somersault. She flipped herself. I'd never seen a horse do that before. It was crazy."

"Is she okay?" Skye asked.

"Are you okay?" Grace asked.

"She doesn't have a scratch on her. And I'm fine. But it shook me up. So, yeah...I still have to get pictures of her, but I'm scared to turn her loose in the outdoor arena again."

"Can we help you with her?" Grace offered.

The boss nodded. "Sure. I'd like that."

Grace walked the mare down to the indoor arena with the boss and Skye following behind, watching the big, lanky three year old walk. She was moving just fine.

In the arena, Grace removed her halter and stepped back. The mare stood, calm, looking around. The girls then watched from behind the rail, and waited. The boss took pictures. The mare walked around, and as if on cue, returned to the area where the boss had set up lights and camera. It wasn't the beautiful, natural lighting outdoor image that she'd promised her client, but at least this time, the boss got a picture.

The boss wanted to photograph a few other horses. The white Arabian stallion was one of them. She seemed perpetually perplexed with her results.

"You know I swear by this big lens...but I think it's getting tired. I think I'm ready to go mirrorless."

"Can I have that old lens and camera?" Skye blurted out.

The boss laughed. "Sure. But we need to sell some horses before I can buy new camera gear. And that's always difficult, you know? Choosing between a horse and a mechanical object..."

Luna was the last horse of the day. She made the boss think of Anoush and her girls.

"Were you able to sort out your feelings regarding Anoush and the wild horses?" the boss asked.

"Yeah, we're okay" Skye responded. "The day we decided to go out looking for the wildies with them was the day we discovered that Rain Man had been captured. And they had no hesitation tearing down the fence and letting him loose. We were immediately like...a sisterhood on a mission."

Grace nodded. There wasn't much she could add. Skye had summed it up nicely.

"Is Anoush going to bring her foster kids over for Christmas?" the boss asked. It was the first time the boss has mentioned anything about Christmas. Which was strange, because ordinarily, the boss loved Christmas, and particularly, showering the girls with gifts.

"I don't know when" Grace replied. "It might be after the holidays."

"Well, we can set the arena up for them, so you don't have to tear the tack room apart. We can put up some pipe corral across a portion of it and keep her kids more or less contained."

Grace and Skye looked at each other.

"Fantastic idea" Skye replied.

December 22
Skye was a bit distracted by the sunrise. It was likely a hybrid sky, but she was pretty sure some of the clouds were the real deal, and the light kept changing. She would run outside as it was vibrant pink or purple, and by the time she got to the knoll to photograph it, the vibrant color was muted. By the time she got back to the house, bright again.

She couldn't take pictures all morning though.  Today was the day.  The girls loaded the Jeep with Christmas decor, and headed to the indoor arena.

"I'm so glad we are finally doing Christmas!" Skye exclaimed. Grace held back a smile.

"What? Aren't you happy about Christmas?"

"Yes" Grace responded. "Your face is covered in glitter Skye. Don't wipe it off. It's very festive."

The boss pulled the Pavement Queen and trailer up the drive in front of them.   There was someone in the passenger seat.  Grace and Skye couldn't make out who it was.

The girl who opened the doors on the trailer was not familiar to them.  Skye jumped out to help. The trailer was full. Full of...Skye wasn't exactly sure what, perhaps toys. And a pony. 

"Hi, I'm Skye, and that's an adorable pony!"

"I'm Jessica, and this is Chance. Where are we going?"

"To the indoor arena! I'll show you." Chance was a plucky pony with a thick mane and a sturdy build. Everything about him was round and fluffy.

The girls got to work inside of the arena, hangin lights and decorations and arranging a huge assortment of play things.

"Did I get this right?" Jessica asked Grace of her fence decoration project.

"That looks great. The boss just brought those home on Wednesday so I don't think there's any wrong way to do it."

"What's this?" Skye asked. It was a jumbled pile of snap-together something. "Jessica shook her head. I don't really know. Let's see if we can figure it out."

It snapped together easy enough...a playful set of stairs that went up and up...but it wasn't very sturdy. Jessica shook her head.

"Let's not do this" Jessica said. "This is an accident waiting to happen. Maybe let's just leave the base and one set of steps."

Skye took the bulk of the thing and set it on top of a box behind the Christmas tree.

"What's in this box?" Skye asked.

"It was already here" Grace said. "I have no idea." Together the girls lifted the stair toy over the rail and out of sight, and got back to setting up the other toys.

Jessica lugged a big silky bag towards Skye. "Can you set these toys out Skye? I need to go get Chance ready. "

"Sure!"

The bag was full of plastic cats and dogs. The strange ensemble of other toys made sense now. Skye took a moment to look at each of them. But not too long of a moment. The girls would be here soon.

Crystal and Heather kept a watchful eye as the three young girls explored their play place.

The toys were fun, perhaps the sheer volume of them overwhelming, but the arena sand itself...the feel of the sand was often what seemed to engage them the most.

And then they began to run around the tree. Crystal and Heather scrambled to move things out of their way. They shreaked with delight. Skye strained to hear words, but there weren't many words. Most of the young girls' communication amongst themselves was visual and tactile.

The little blue eyed girl ran to Heather and hugged her.

Skye turned to Anoush. Anoush anticipated her question. "Heather looks a little bit like her mom" Anoush whispered.

"Do you want to ride a pony?" Heather asked. The little girl smiled.

Jessica rode Chance in, one hand on his lead, the other balancing a big teddy bear behind her.

Jessica swung to the ground, holding the teddy bear. "Good morning! I'm Jessica, and this is Teddy, and that's my pony Chance! Chance is going to give you all a ride this morning!"

The un-decorated side of the arena provided a whole new set of sensory input.

"But first", Jessica continued, "Heather is going to ride Chance!"

Crystal trotted toward Heather and Chance to give Heather a leg up.

Chance was a perfect gentleman.

When the pony rides were over, everyone went outside to have a picnic lunch. Grace, Skye and the boss stayed behind in the arena.

"I'm glad we did this in the arena" Grace said. "The sand made a much better play surface."

"Yes," the boss replied enthusiastically, "I think the sand was as much fun as the toys. Don't worry about cleaning up Grace. Anoush and the girls will come back later and get everything."

"What's in this box?" Skye asked.

"Oh! The box! I forgot all about that" the boss said. "Go ahead Skye, open it. It's a prize from The Collective show. I thought you might have fun with it."

Skye was slightly perplexed. A pony blanket?

"That's a face hood and neck blanket" the boss explained. "If it ever got really really cold...or if we had show horses, you would have seen one of those before."

The body blanket was also in the box.

"Can I go try this on somebody?"

"You sure can." Grace and the boss were pretty sure they knew who was going to get to model the blanket.

December 28
Grace and Skye made their way down to Mustang Rock. But as the afternoon sun sank low, the birds were very busy in the trees. Scrub jays and woodpeckers and towhees were all aflutter.

"Hold still!" Skye said, chasing a woodpecker through the branches with the camera.

They saw nothing, heard nothing. But the domestic horses were a reliable source of intelligence with regard to when and where the wildies were present. So the girls settled in.

Grace was having trouble getting comfortable.

"Why do rocks have to be so hard Skye?"

Skye couldn't answer. The dun mare emerged from the rocks, took a wary look around, slipped back out of sight. Skye hoped the sound of the shutter hadn't traveled that far.

Moments passed. Then minutes. Then they appeared.

The light was amazing. Skye tried to capture each individual horse. Grace was looking behind Highlander's band, hoping to see Petrichor and his harem following.

Highlander whirled around to take a last look at Grace and Skye as his mares moved ahead of him. And that was when Skye realized the dun mare's colt was missing.

The girls waited. Listened. Nothing. The colt was not with the herd.

There was silence for a while as the girls navigated the steep terrain, heading gb back to the ranch.  

"What's the chance that the horse thief got him?" Skye wondered out loud.

"Oh...the horse thief. I don't know. Seems like that mare would've put up a fight for her foal...but then how did Rain Man end up getting captured? That's a good question."

Back at home, Skye made her way to the top bunk, and stayed there.  Grace looked at her photos on the laptop.

"You got some really nice photos" Grace said to a disinterested Skye.

"Oh! Awesome!" Skye made no attempt to see her pictures.

"You probably already know this Skye but I'll say it anyway. If a horse thief got that colt, as long as the capture went well, it's probably the kindest thing that could've happened. Between this rocky terrain and mountain lions and bears and even bobcats, I'd say predation by horse thief would be the best outcome. If you want, we can go out tomorrow morning, or Monday morning, and look for him."

Skye thought about it for a moment. "Let's take the dogs" she responded.

"Good idea" Grace replied.

December 30
When Grace suggested they could go looking for the dun mare's colt, and Skye said "Let's take the dogs" Grace had a different interpretation in mind. And maybe Skye did too, on Saturday evening. But now it was Monday morning, the sky was mostly blue, the sun was warm, and they had almost every dog on the ranch with them. And a cat. And they weren't looking for anything. Skye seemed content to watch the dogs and soak in the sun's warmth while the wind tussled her hair.

Charles did seem to be picking up the scent of something.  After a time they all followed Charles.

"I feel like I am this guy's emotional support human" Skye said of the Great Dane mix.

"I think you are" Grace replied.

Grace found herself rather hoping that Charles would locate something other than the colt. Or perhaps nothing at all. Skye seemed to be surrendered to the reality of his absence, and finding him alive was highly improbable.

Charles eventually wandered up to a spent yucca stalk. His body language was anticlimactic. Whatever he had found was not anything of consequence. Curious, Grace dislodged it from underneath the stalk.

A fragment of an herbivore jaw bone.

"Deer?" Skye asked.

Grace nodded. "I'm guessing a young one, but from a long time ago. It's pretty well decomposed."

Upon their return to the ranch, the boss invited the girls down to the indoor arena. They were surprised to see a new horse.

"Let me guess" Skye said. "Another historic Spanish riding horse recreation?"

"Criollo" the boss answered. "But that's a heck of a guess Skye."

"Is he a keeper?" Skye asked.

"I'm not sure" the boss answered. "I committed to purchasing him before the Bridge fire. Now, I probably shouldn't have done that because I was already saying we have too many horses for this remote of a location. But I mean, look at him. He's gorgeous. He's very well trained and has a great temperament. "

"And, blah blah blah, he's sort of Spanish" Grace added, smiling.

"Yeah" Skye said, "but he's not golden."

Grace sighed. "You're right. Maybe I won't fall in love with him."

​
                                                                                                    #


​

November 3, 2024
The sun's last rays fled in front of mountain shadows, and the wind blew, strong and cold.

The girls had never found the wildies from the comfort of the Pavement Queen. But it was worth a try.

"Stop, stop!"
Skye could have sworn she saw something move. But perhaps it was just the wind, playing tricks on her eyes.

They stopped on the flat where just a few days ago they'd seen Petrichor and Highlander's bands, together, and with the new mare joining Petrichor's harem. But today, there were no horses. Only silence, and then wind, and then silence again.

November 4
The wind kept the girls indoors.  Skye looked at images that she's saved on the iPad, and tried to piece together the ever-changing dynamic of the wild horses.

"Grace, how many wild horses are there now?"

Grace paused. "More than I have fingers. Maybe more than I have fingers and toes."

"Let's count them. Petrichor had...the bay mare, Thorn, two foals. That's four. Five horses total for Petrichor. Highlander is now two mares, one foal...that's four counting him."

"Nine. Keep going, I'll keep count" Grace said.

"Ugh. Storm and Rain Man. The Newcomer. And the black or grulla mare and foal."

"Fourteen" Grace counted.

"Okay, now the new horses" Sky continued. "Lumpy and her filly."

"Sixteen."

"And that pinto..."

"What pinto? Oh that pinto! The tovero...or whatever he is. We only saw him once huh?"

"Yup."

"Shoot. Where were we. Seventeen."

"The roan mare with Storm."

"I wonder how that ever shook out" Grace said.

"Eighteen. Is that it?"

"No! There's the new mare that showed up with Petrichor."

"Nineteen" Grace said. "And we totally forgot Crazy and his band. Two mares, three foals, including him that's twenty five."

"And one more mare. That big bay mare that gave him the slip out on the cut. Remember that?"

"Twenty six. Wow. Okay, ready for a slightly different topic?"

Skye smiled. "Sure."

"NaMoPaiMo" Grace said. She set the pewter foal in front of Skye and picked up the rather heavy pewter mare.

"I don't know" Skye said. "I think I'd rather do something life-size."

"Well, we've got a couple of months to think about it."

November 10
The winds had blown the sand from the outdoor arenas, exposing bare mineral soil and gravel. They would need to be completely refilled with sand.

Grace and Skye, armed with shovels and a wheelbarrow, surveyed the damage.

"I don't have it" Grace said.

"What?"

"I can't do this tonight. We need a tractor. A back hoe. Something. I don't have it in me to do this kind of shoveling. And then the wind comes up again and blows it all away. Forget it."

Grace was right. November was notoriously windy. Maybe waiting would be better.  So in the day's last light they followed the gaze of the domestic horses to the southeast instead.

Tendrils of light retreated before them as the sun set.  The girls climbed up on a smooth outcropping across from Mustang Rock, immersed in evening shadows.

"I shoulda brought the camera" Skye lamented.

In the very last rays of daylight, Rain Man and Storm argued on a ridge. Their bodies were well apart. Clearly they were postering, not going to war.

The moon was already high in the sky.  The mountains to the east captured the last glowing rays of sunlight, making the scene even more dramatic.  Birds of all kinds were settling down for the night.  California Quail flew past the girls with a burst of sound, then settled on the ground and ran into the thick cover of the forest.

The roan mare was still with Storm. It appeared that Storm and Rain Man had established a suitable hierarchy, at least for now.  Returning to his harem, Storm's colors blended into the granite and the landscape as the light faded.  Rain Man rode shotgun on the mares.  Soon the horses slipped away into the shadows of nightfall.

November 16
Real clouds. Few things without hooves were more pleasing to Grace.  She left the comfort of the Pavement Queen to take a look around, pulling on her coat against the cold wind. The change in seasons was rarely slow and subtle. Today was late autumn through and through.

Skye hopped out, felt the wind, changed her mind.  "Those clouds are gorgeous" Skye said, "and I can see 'em pretty good from inside the truck, so that's where I'm gonna stay."

In the indoor arena, Owadan used the whole of the indoor arena to stretch his considerable legs.  It was chilly in the arena, but at least there was shelter for the wind.

"I have questions" Skye said.

"Okay..."

"Show horses. The serious show horses, you see them in winter and they're all slick, no winter coat...how is that possible?"

"By blanketing" Grace said. "And I think maybe keeping them in covered stalls, out of the elements. And you want to know what's wild about that?"

"Sure..."

"I was reading up on horses growing winter coats, and what breeds get robust coats and which ones don't. And the article talked about how it's not climate that determines a horse's winter coat, it's the length of daylight hours. As the days get shorter, animals get the cue to start growing whatever winter protection they need. But the fact that you can lock a horse in a stall without sunlight and keep it warm to prevent it from growing a winter coat proves that the daylight hours theory isn't absolutely right."

Next in the arena was Mateo, the Spanish Riding Horse stallion.  After a long and arduous spell of trying to figure out how to present him, the boss decided to go with the common "breed" name rather than call out the bloodlines used in the recreation of the historical breed.  Whether or not that would help him garner respect in a halter class wasn't yet clear.  Mateo was always a little unsettling. Skye and Grace had to call their dogs to their side.

"I'm surprised this one is still here" Skye said.

"Me too" Grace answered. "I thought the boss would have sold him by now. He's kind of a hand full, and she's not crazy about having difficult horses."

"He's sure pretty though."

The next horse in the arena was also lovely, and a bit easier to handle.
"So show horses...the real nice ones... are they always in their stalls or do they get exercised?"

"They have to get out...I'm not sure how you keep them all perfect all the time, but they'd have to get out. Otherwise they'd have no condition."

The last two horses of the day made their way around the arena. The petite Fjord mare was determined to keep up with the much larger Welsh cob gelding.

Skye laughed as she watched them lap the arena. "She's gonna get frustrated and bite him in the butt!"

The girls braved the cooling air as they put the cob and the Fjord back in their stalls. The last moments of light bathed the mountain in a deep crimson glow.

November 23, dawn
At first light the eastern sky was clear, but to the west thin tendrils of clouds sped over the landscape. Skye watched them, fascinated.

The sunrise was glorious on the shades of autumn all around.  To the west the sky had quickly darkened.  And then in moments the sun was folded into the mass of clouds.  An hour or so later, a soft drizzle began to fall; a mist, barely enough to be called rain.

The girls sat in the Pavement Queen, watching the landscape take on the gentle moisture.

"This is gonna be perfect for the boss's thing tomorrow huh?"

"Yup" Grace answered. "Just enough."

The boss's "thing" was a holiday gathering and work party.  There would be some experimental planting of deer grass plugs.  Deer grass is a very hardy native grass, but also slow growing and not an aggressive propagator from seed.  The boss was interested in seeing if it could be successfully transplanted "in the wild", as it was common to do when the grass was used in garden applications.  In theory, at least, the locally harvested plugs of grass would survive transplanting, and begin growing anew in the spring.

Then it was tine to get about the business of turning out horses.  Anoush, Lousin and Anahit joined Grace and Skye in the arena as they turned out the big pinto sport horse with the odd name of "Lefty."

"He is beautiful" Anoush commented. "But what we really want to know, have you seen Rain Man, the mustang we freed?"

"We have!" Skye answered enthusiastically. "We saw him....about a week ago. He's back with Storm, and Storm has a little harem of mares, although they don't look terribly happy to be with him, and Rain Man was with them!"

Grace listened, watching the big pinto, making sure he kept a safe distance from everyone.

"That's fantastic news" Anoush said. "I am wondering...I think the girls may have mentioned to you that I work with special needs and disadvantaged children."

"They did in fact" Grace said.

"I'm wondering if we can set up a visit with them. Not riding or anything like that. And perhaps not even until after the holidays. But a sort of...special vacation."

The next horse to turn out was the gelding with the roached mane that came home from evacuation with the rest of the horses. More Grace and Skye's kind of horse. His arrival was no accident. The boss bought him, a distress sale, from someone whose property had not been unscathed by the fire.

Grace was distracted, watching the calm and rather effortless movement of the chestnut. She wasn't sure if the boss intended to keep him, but he was nice. Balanced.

"What kinds of activities were you thinking of for your kids?" Grace asked Anoush.

"I'd like to give them a sort of special play day. Maybe find a space where they could really run around and let their imaginations be free and not feel restricted. Perhaps a space that we could use for an afternoon, and bring toys and activities for them."

The tack room was Grace's thought. It would be easy enough to clear it out and make it into a play space for an afternoon.  Anahit, Lousin, Anoush, Grace and Skye visited the tack room to view the space in that light.

"Didn't you have a lot more saddle stands?" Anoush asked.

"We did. I mean we do" Skye explained. They aren't back yet. When we evacuated the horses, the boss took a bunch of stuff and put it in storage. It's not all back yet. It's kind of a mess, really. We're missing five saddle stands and...who knows what else. It'll all come back. It's just...things still aren't all the way back to normal yet."

November 26
The rain came softly as the girls came up the mountain in the Pavement Queen. Grace liked to let the tiny beads of water cover the windshield entirely before she used the wipers. Skye delighted in her antics and always stretched for a few more seconds.

Four sections of pipe stall, two blankets, four saddle stands.  Skye had used linseed oil on the wooden stands, so the water was no cause for concern.  It was a relief to be bringing home the last few items that had left in the evacuation.

"I still think we're missing a saddle stand" Skye said. "And I have no idea where the other four blankets are, but I know we have at least six blankets."

"Maybe the other four never left" Grace responded. "And maybe the other saddle stand is around here somewhere. I'm pretty sure this is the last load."

"I can't believe everything is still on the truck!"

"I told you girl. I got this. It ain't my first rodeo."

​                                                                                                          #

​





​

October 2, 2024

White clouds danced across a blue sky.  Strawberry Peak looked majestic in the afternoon sun.  Chilao wore a cloud hat, keeping the temperature just above 90 degrees.  

The winds had come, leaving the arenas full of tree debris.

​"At least there's still some sand" Skye said.

"Yeah, plenty of sand left, thank goodness. Let's just pick up the big stuff and throw it off to the side."

There were horses coming home. Two trailers. The boss had been bringing horses back two at a time, but when the big stock trailers came, they needed room to unload the horses and get things sorted.

The big strawberry roan shire was first to unload.
"Do you remember this one's name?" Skye called out.

There was a long pause before Grace answered.

"It should be something like Strawberries and Cream."

Skye laughed. "I can't remember his name either."

Next came the palomino Friesian cross, Dream Boat. One of Grace's beloved golden boys.

Next, three mares, a filly and two geldings. All in good shape.

And then, much to Skye's relief, the second of the pair of grulla geldings.  "Thank goodness you're back. This one is Sandstone" Skye said.

A non-equine resident came off the trailer next, which was a bit of a surprise. Toro Toro Taxi.  "Where's his cat? Mojo?"  Skye asked.

"Cats are coming back this weekend" Grace replied. "They'll be busy too. While the cats were away, the mice did play."

"Is that it?" Skye asked.

Grace thought she heard a horse still in the trailer.

Two horses. Moose, the big, colorful Morgan cross, was next, and he looked quite fit... like perhaps he might have gained some weight.

Finally, Rembrandt, the Pintabian stallion. Full of himself, as always.

"Do you think the boss would do it all again?" Skye was full of questions.

"Do what again?"

"Voluntary evacuation."

"Probably."

"But this has been like a major ordeal."

"I think..." Grace paused for a long moment before finishing her thought.

"I think she might have waited if she'd had a better understanding of how well planned out the evacuation regions and warnings were for us on this side of the forest. She saw the fire blow up from four thousand to forty thousand acres and she kind of fixated on that. That, and the fact that the fire made it to Wrightwood in that same burst of growth. And they had almost no warning. So I get it. And yeah, I think she would do it again. Because imagine getting it wrong. Imagine not getting the horses out when you could have."

Skye nodded. She didn't really want to imagine that.

October 7
The sun wasn't yet over the mountain as the trailer pulled in. The biggest one yet.

"This is it" Grace said. "This is the last of them."

Cali Girl, the Araloosa filly, trotted about, fit and lovely. They gave her a few minutes to work out the kinks before taking her to her stall.

Technicolor Lederhosen, the big Noriker cross cold blood. He looked great. Not the set of spots Skye was looking for though. Her gelding Mista Spot was still among the not-yet-home.

Jesse, another one of Grace's golden stallions, was glad to be out of the trailer.  He needed a few moments to burn off some steam before they put him up.

"How many horses are left?" Skye asked.

"Four? I'm not sure. But we need to get Jesse put up pretty quick and get the rest of them."

An appaloosa filly came next.  She was cute, but unfamiliar.  "Who is this?" Skye asked.

"Beats me" Grace answered.

"What if we got the wrong appaloosa?"

"What?"

"What if we got her instead of Spot? What if our horses got mixed up?"

"Oh..." Grace paused. "There's still a few more horses on the trailer. Don't panic yet."

"Where will we put her?"

"Is there room next to Deer Medicine? If there is let's put her there."

Mischief and Precious were next. For a moment Skye stopped worrying about Mista Spot, and ran around with Mischief, who seemed glad to be back home.

Then the big medicine hat drum horse.  A hay burner if ever one lived.

"Did he gain weight?" Skye asked.

Grace laughed. "Looks like it, huh? He didn't lose any, that's for sure."

Then, spry and collected, JM's Fabulous Flash, the bay Morgan gelding that the boss adored.  He was retired, but still quite fit.

"Gosh he's pretty" Skye remarked.

B'zou, the Andalusian stallion, came out of the trailer rather unsettled.

"He looks like he's...seen a ghost."

"He does" Grace agreed.

"Is he the last one?"

The girls listened. The trailer was silent. No stomping, no whinnying.  Skye's heart sank.

And then the wrangler's voice.

"Where do want the last one?"

It was Skye's gelding, Mista Spot. The final evacuee to come home.

As the trailers pulled away and the sun rose, another hot day unfolded on the mountain.

October 13
Dawn came lovely. The girls were out walking while the horses finished their breakfast. They followed Baron and Hobo, who seemed to be keen on something to the west of the ranch.  The dogs led them to something curious on the ground, partially concealed among the rocks.

"Is this ours?" Skye asked.
"No" Grace answered. "Not that I'm aware of."

It was something like snow fence, only brown and made of fibers rather than plastic. The posts were rough-hewn rounds. The wood was unfamiliar.

What do you think it's for?"  Skye asked.

"Making a fence. But for what, that's the question. Did the boss mention wanting to do some gardening in the middle of nowhere? Or maybe cultivating native plants? That's the only way I could imagine this is ours. "

"She never said a word to me about anything like that" Skye said. "What should we do with it?"

"Let's leave it for right now. Just how it is. And let's come back in a day or two and see if it gets moved and where to."

The day was busy. Skye's black quarter horse mare had somehow managed to get herself scraped up inside of her stall. Exactly how, Skye couldn't figure.

"She seems fine" Skye said to Grace.

"She'll probably just had some white hairs going in where she's scratched" Grace reassured Skye. "Do you want to see if we can find the comet?"

"Comet? Like in the sky? Sure. You know, that's what we should name her."

Comet? Comets are balls of ice. Generally white."

"She has a white sock..."

"I thought we named her Skye's Black Beauty?"

"Yeah, but I like comet..."

The girls took the pavement queen to the helipad just at dark.  The moon grew ever brighter as the sky darkened.  They searched the horizon line.  Apparently the comet, which had a long and funny name, was only briefly visible, low on the horizon, and because of the moon phase, even more difficult to see.

And then there it was.  The night was still, and silent, and beautiful.  The girls took in the amazing celestial show...all too quickly swallowed by the mountain.

October 19
Grace drove the Jeep as carefully as possible across the rugged terrain.  Five passengers was a lot.  The three youngest ladies had to stand up behind the seats.

"Oh sorry!" Skye's elbow and Anoush's helmet were having a hard time staying separated. The wind was subsiding, but not without a few final vicious gusts. So the girls...all of them...opted for the Jeep rather than riding or walking.

There was a roaring sound that was not the wind. The helicopter swooped in fast, directly above them.  Spun around and headed back toward them.

Made another pass directly over them, at high speed.

"Grace is there something you need to tell us?" Anoush teased.

"It's SCE" Skye said. "I betcha. They're checking the power lines. Pretty soon they'll turn the power back on if everything's good."

The helicopter sped away.

The girls left the Jeep at the base of the monolith.  Skye led the way up the rock face. There were hand holds and foot holds. The granite had a rough enough surface to be navigable.

Not Grace's favorite thing in the world to do, but if everyone else was doing it...

They reached the top. Stared quietly out across the rocky habitat that stretched below them. Listened. Watched. A hummingbird made a rather daring pass at Anahit. Behind them in the chaparral, bluebirds were making a fuss with their deceivingly soft and gentle voices. But there was no sign of horses.

After a few minutes, Grace broke the silence.

"Let's head back to the Jeep. There's another place we need to go."

Grace had a hunch she knew what the roll of fence material she and Skye had come upon a week ago was for. And her hunch was right.  In a crevice between two great pillars of stone, they found the fencing, propped across both ends of the narrow passage.  Stirred up dust met sunlight as they approached.  The sound of hooves moving uneasily.   They had found their missing mustang.

Skye turned to Anahit and Lousin.

"That's Rain Man" she whispered. "Rain Man and Storm were the first wild horses we ever saw."

Rain Man had been captured in that narrow passage between two steep walls of rock. The mesh fencing was layered to give it enough height to hold him in. If he'd charged the fence, it would probably collapse, and he would be free. But he didn't. He moved nervously back and forth, in and out of the shadows, rearing, spinning, rearing again.

The girls watched in stunned silence. Even suspecting as she did that someone was hoping to catch a wildie, Grace needed a moment to get her bearings.

"Should we let him loose?" Skye finally asked.

Anoush answered in what Grace liked to think of as her mom voice. It was level, firm and unwavering.

"Yes. This fence will collapse rather quickly if we remove the poles that are laid diagonally across the others first. The fence has no weight, we'll just need to quickly pull it aside."

Skye looked at Grace. Grace nodded. Everyone got to work.

Anoush and Grace held the stallion back with little more than waving arms. Lousin, Skye and Anahit made short work of dismantling the fence and rolling it to the side. Rain Man was ready to take his freedom.

He made his break. A length of fence unfurled and rolled toward the stallion as he bolted. He slid to a stop, spooked and reared. For one terrifying moment the girls froze, pressed against the rock wall with nowhere to go.

And then Rain Man lunged over the roll of fence, and away, a spray of dirt and pebbles pelting the girls as his hooves dug into the ground and propelled him back to freedom.

October 21
As soon as the morning chores were done, the girls rode out, back to where Rain Man had been captured. They took the high road, coming around above the place where they had found him, just in case someone was there.

All was quiet.

There was nothing left of the enclosure. All the fencing was gone. A spot of green on the ground against the black ash-laden earth was all that remained...a bit of alfalfa hay.

They looked all around. There were no hoof prints.

"It's been swept clean" Skye whispered. "And I don't even see any broom marks."

Grace studied the ground as they existed the rock crevice. Not even their own footprints remained.

"Kind of creepy" Skye said in a low voice. "I feel like...I don't know."

It took Grace a while to respond. "Yeah. Definitely creepy."

October 26
Skye never got tired of of the evening light in the trees. Or the grass. Or on the rocks. Nor did Grace. But she was focused on looking for signs. Signs of the would-be horse catcher.

Dani Girl, the appaloosa sport horse mare, was a lively ride. It had been a little while since they'd been off the ranch and on a trail ride.

Skye looked at the dry grasses to their right.

"This is mostly deer grass" Skye said. "And I know what we're supposed to understand about deer grass, but it's not looking too lively to me."

Grace glanced to the right. She had a point.

"If we got off and looked closer to the ground, close to the roots, we might find a little green at the base" Grace replied, but her answer wasn't terribly convincing.

The girls took to higher ground, bringing their mounts down to a walk once they crested Mustang Rock. The view of the grass was not much more promising from their new vantage point.

Spent yucca lay like bleaching bones on the dry grass.  Textile tendrils slowly slipping back into the soil in a decomposition process that might take decades.

"Well, we'll see how it goes. I know the boss wants to transplant a good little patch with deer grass, and I suspect we'll be helping with that at some point or another" Skye continued. "I mean, I know it comes back every year, I know all the things about it, and I know it transplants. I guess I just didn't expect it to look quite so dead after all the water we've had the last two winters."

"Yeah but the heat" Grace reminded her. "It was hot. And no summer showers here at all. Once the rain and snow stopped, we went into summer. And it's still hot. And still dry."

Skye had a lot of questions. The answers would reveal themselves over time, surely, but right now, looking at the landscape, it did seem unlikely that even the native grasses could keep their grip if it didn't rain soon.

October 27
Petrichor and Highlander's bands traveled together, in close proximity to each other.  And save for their footfalls on the rocky ground, they were silent.  Grace and Skye stood still, watching the horses from a jagged rock outcropping.

"They see us" Skye whispered.

Grace was focused on Petrichor.

His hooves sank deep into the dry ravel. He glanced their way briefly, as if acknowledging their presence, but his own focus was on his lead mare. Which way was she going?

The sky was a mixture of clouds, and things that were not clouds. Grace hadn't said a word about it, but Skye knew. It was difficult to tell the one from the other now, but the dark layer moving toward them was a welcome respite from the heat.

The sun broke through again, illuminating Highlander's band of brown and gold.

Skye struggled to see another horse. Blue-black, and well integrated into Petrichor's small band. A mare, certainly.

For a moment the horses circled in the clearing, uncertain. A single gunshot broke the silence. It was distant, perhaps two miles away.

The bay mare changed her course, and the others followed. From the clearing there were a number of options, including going back the way they had come, up onto a ridgeline, or downward into a maze of rock outcroppings where the horses would sometimes take shelter from the wind. The bay mare would choose. Petrichor's band was in the lead today.

The moment of indecision gave the girls a clear view of both Petrichor and the blue mare.

She was big. And from her robust head to her low set tail, she exuded "mustang."

And then, after what seemed like a long moment of indecision, the bay mare made her choice, and headed toward the rock maze. The other horses followed, maintaining their silence.

"Thorn's coat looks dull" Skye whispered. "She used to look better."

Grace nodded silently. Skye was correct.

There was a sound. Soft. Then a few drops of rain. Just a few.

Skye smiled.
"It's a good sign" she whispered to Grace. "The little bit of rain. It's like everything will be okay. And now we know for sure that at least some of what is in the sky is clouds."

"Yes" Grace whispered in agreement. "I think the horses are trying to find a quiet place to hide" she added.

"I think you're right" Skye whispered. "Probably trapped here in the middle ground. Hunters above, hunters below...there's no water here so that's probably it."

The bay mare picked her way across the rugged ground. Four mares, three foals and two stallions followed her.  The girls watched until the horses had all slipped out of sight.

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September 8, 2024
The morning was mercifully cooler than the previous days had been. The warmth was coming, to be sure, but it was a little slow to arrive, so the girls walked with The Black. She was noticeably slower in recent days.

"See if you can get her out every day" Grace said. "It may help. Just a short walk, just to keep her joints lubricated. I know it's hard, seems like there's always so much going on."

"That's really all we can do, isn't it?"

"Yeah. And the day may come when she doesn't want to go out for a walk any more. She'll let you know."

No one really knew how old The Black was. Maybe thirty, maybe older. One thing was certain, she'd gotten lots of love in the last little bit of that long life.

The dawn had been made cooler by a mixture of smoke from the Line fire and a thin layer of clouds. Around 2 PM those clouds were gathering in earnest. Skye went out with her iPad, trying to capture the breadth of the incoming storm.

Then came the thunder. She knew Grace wouldn't want her outside in the thunder. The grass was tinder dry and sharp.  One more picture. Then Skye made her way back inside.

And it was about that time that a new fire erupted.  The Bridge fire, in the Angeles National Forest, on the Azusa side, near Highway 39.  The girls would be blissfully unaware of it until later in the afternoon, when Tanner told the boss about the two very large columns that he did not think were clouds.  Indeed, they weren't.  They were the Line fire to the east and the Bridge fire to the southeast, both sending smoke miles into the sky.  The Line fire had started on September 5 and was an arson fire.  The arsonist was caught after lighting a number of other fires which were of lesser magnitude.

The Bridge fire grew from four thousand acres to forty thousand acres in one day, making a run all the way across the forest from Azusa/Glendora to the mountain community of Wrightwood. The western edge of the community was losing homes to the fire.  The USFS Grassy Hollow Visitor's Center was reduced to rubble as the fire roared up to and across the highway, entirely unchecked.  Big Pines, aptly named for its tall timber, crowned; the trees were consumed by the flames.  Mountain High ski resort burned again.  The beautiful campgrounds and high country that the girls had visited in the Jeep in 2022 as they searched for the origin of the wild horses...once again shaped by fire. 

That evening, the boss decided to do a voluntary evacuation, taking as much artwork and as many horses as she could off the mountain.  The horses would not be accepted at evacuation shelters, however, because those spaces were created for mandatory evacuees.  So she brought them all the way out to a facility in Ventura County, until there simply wasn't room for any more horses. 

Grace and Skye stayed behind with the horses that remained.  If there would be another wave of evacuations, they would need to be mandatory, so that horses could be brought to evacuation facilities.

The Bridge Fire would quickly consume over 50,000 acres of the Angeles National Forest, running in much the way that the devastating Bobcat Fire did in 2020.  That fire began on September 6 and burned 115,997 acres, running mostly unchecked from the Los Angeles basin side of the mountains to the high desert beyond Wrightwood, destroying the landmark Devils Punchbowl Visitor's Center, and obliterating much of the Station Fire's amazing recovery in the Chilao area. That had been Grace's introduction to Redbird Ranch; a month long mandatory evacuation in the brutal heat of that summer with no real assurance that there would be a ranch to come back to.

It seemed clear now that the current Bridge fire was moving away from Chilao.  With many less horses to care for, the girls enjoyed a little more free time to do what they loved the most, watching the wild horses.

September 15
Skye sat down on the rough granite, and watched in silence.  Eventually she turned to Grace.
"I have no idea what's going on" Skye said.

Below them, the big mare they called Lumpy and her filly appeared to be running away from Storm, the big, bay going grey stallion.  Storm was distracted with another horse which the girls had never seen before, a scrappy bay roan.  The new horses' legs and hooves were substantial, but the rest of it looked like a typical southwestern mustang.  And the small roan horse didn't seem fond of Storm.

"Can you see The Newcomer over towards the ranch?" Grace's gaze was focused toward the southeast.

Skye was focused on what appeared to be complete chaos to the southwest.

Storm had somehow amassed a small herd. But his aggressive style seemed unappreciated. 

"That's gotta be a mare" Skye said regarding the diminutive new horse, not exactly whispering.

"Agreed" Grace replied.

Both girls scanned the horizon for Rain Man. They had never seen Storm without Rain Man. But he was nowhere to be found. The girls moved closer, hoping for a better look.

"Whoa!" Skye, unaccustomed to hiking in boots, found them a bit tricky.

"That's a hat Skye, not a helmet. Careful!"

Storm was relentless, following the small roan mare into the rocks, pushing her back down toward the flat.

Even the local hummingbird seemed perplexed about the action taking place on the ground.

The girls found a place to sit, closer to the horses but still out of harm's way, and still un-noticed.

"I think this is the most uncomfortable rock I've ever sat on" Grace grumbled.

"I think this is the most confusing scene I've ever watched unfold" Skye replied. "Or maybe these ladies just don't like getting bossed around so much."

"Storm is a bit of a tyrant, isn't he? This is the first time we've ever seen him with mares and without Rain Man. He seems to have just one mode of operation, and it's pretty unsettling."

The Newcomer and his small band held back, avoiding all of it.

Back at the ranch in the afternoon, Grace and Skye turned horses out in the indoor arena.  Gunner glowed beneath the arena lights.

That is where Anoush, Anahit and Lousin found Grace and Skye, which seemed a bit odd on such a glorious day. But so did the relative quietness of the ranch itself. Most of the horse stalls were empty.

"All the pipe corrals went with the horses" Skye explained.

"Where are the horses?" Anoush asked.
"Ventura County" Grace replied. "When the Bridge fire blew up on Tuesday, the boss decided to start moving horses. There were a couple of closer evacuation centers, but they wouldn't take animals unless they were coming out of evacuation zones, and we weren't under evacuation orders yet."

"We still aren't under evacuation orders" Skye said. "But the boss didn't want to wait. Too many horses to wait to the last minute, she said."

"Good thinking" Anoush said. "How did you choose which horses to take?"

Grace and Skye looked at each other. Grace answered. "I think the idea was to get all of them, but there wasn't enough space for all of them at the place in Ventura, so we had to stop. So, a real mix of horses went."

"Yeah, like all my horses except Ladyhawk are there" Skye interjected. "We actually brought Ladyhawk and La Barilla back! So some of the really rare and valuable horses went, some of the horses that were easy to load in the trailer went, The Black went...you know who didn't go? The roan mare, the draft-type mustang mare. She wouldn't load for anything. So that old girl is still here."

"What will happen to the wild horses?" Anoush asked.

Grace didn't hesitate to answer. "Where the Bridge fire is burning right now, we went looking for wild horses. Skye and I drove the whole of that country, except the part where the fire started, because we know there aren't any wild horses there. We covered everything from Blue Ridge to Lytle Creek and plenty of parts in between. We don't think there's any wild horses there. Right around here, this is the best country for them."

"What's next? Anahit asked. "Are you going to move the rest of the horses?"

"We're in a holding pattern" Skye answered. "Watching the fire reports, watching the weather, waiting."

"And as far as I know we don't have anywhere to bring the rest of the horses to" Grace continued. "I mean, I'm sure the boss will find somewhere if she has to...I heard her mention something about Agua Dulce...but hopefully we won't have to do it."

Back at home, the space was uncluttered for the first time in a very long time.

"It feels so weird, everything being gone" Skye said. "Well, I mean, not everything, but all the artwork, the models, and Ginger Kitty and Butch and Lady and Vinnie and the pups..."

The small animals had also been evacuated.  

"Yeah" Grace sighed. "It is weird. I have a lot more room on my bed, but it's weird. Hopefully this will all be over soon and everything can get back to normal. Then we can complain about having too many animals and not enough room again."

September 21
Stock trailers began arriving just as the sun began to descend rapidly. The horses were returning from their evacuation stay in Ventura County.

Grace watched the boss, moving each and every horse from the trailer to the pen as the handlers brought them out. Her hair was matted, her lips parched, her face flushed red with sunburn covered by dust.

"You should take a break" Grace said to the boss. "Go up to the house and rest for a bit."

"There's more horses coming" the boss replied.

"Skye and I can handle it" Grace responded.

"I'm fine" the boss said.

"Go rest for a bit" Grace insisted. "You are setting a bad example of self care for Skye."

The boss fell silent. When the mares were unloaded, she went up to the house without further argument, leaving Grace and Skye to put everyone back in their stalls before the next group of horses were unloaded.

The Black made it.  No one was sure how the old mare would fare on such a long trailer ride, but she made it.

The second trailer came with several more mares. Everyone looked good.

"Are all the horses coming back tonight?"
Skye asked.

"I don't think so" Grace replied. "I think the boss said most of them would be."

Evening light shone glorious pink-red on the mountains. Skye imagined some day she might see a mountain lion slithering down the steep slope. Not that she necessarily wanted to see a mountain lion so close, but there was a game trail just behind the property, and all the wild things used it.

They had barely gotten the mares put away when the third trailer pulled in.

One of the big grulla geldings emerged.  

"Only one of the boys!" Skye exclaimed. "I'm not even sure if this is Granite or Sandstone. I think this is Granite...I wonder where the other one is..."

"I'm sure he's fine" Grace said. "They probably loaded them up the same way we did...let's grab some mares...let's grab some geldings...let's grab whoever wants to get on the trailer...'

Grace stared at a chestnut gelding with a roached mane and a brand. He eyed her back, ears swiveling, alert demeaner, taking in everything.

"Who is this?" Grace asked.

"What? Who is...ooooohh...who is that! I don't know!"

"I think we got someone else's horse."

"Oh no" Skye said. "What if other people are getting our horses?"

"It's all right" Grace said. "It'll work out. We'll get everyone back."

Relempago en la Pampa came out of the trailer as the final rays of sunlight turned intensely warm.

"Is this the last one for tonight?" Skye asked.

Her question was answered by the sound of another trailer coming up the drive.

"I guess not..."

Cloud Nine, the big Thoroughbred sport horse, retired now but still possessed of his regal nature. He was a little excited to be home. It took a few minutes before he was settled enough to bring back to his stall.

Bramble, the boss's beloved draft mustang gelding. He was usually hungry, and tonight was no exception. He was ready to get bedded down for the evening.

Last light came upon them.

The last horse of the evening, the paint stallion Windy Boy. In their minds the girls ran through all of the horses that hadn't returned yet. Jesse, for instance. The other grulla gelding, the Vanner mare and foal. Windy Boy needed a few minutes to blow off some steam before they put him up for the evening.
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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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​

​

July 3, 2024
​Summer had arrived, and with it, a rather large bear. In light of which, Grace thought a mule might make a good walking companion. Once the sun went down, the temperature dropped to a delicious 80 degrees. Wearing a generous cover of fly wipe, Tex and the girls looked southeast across Chilao. Chamise was in high bloom. The time of the yucca flower was over for good now.

Skye heaved a deep sigh. "I am conflicted" she said. "Part of me wants to keep the wild horses our little secret, and the other part of me feels guilty and selfish."

"I feel you" Grace said. "We've sort of had a private paradise for a while now. I'm not even sure I like knowing where they came from. Or probably came from. There was some magic to the mystery."

"Right!"

"Don't worry about it too much. Something will happen sooner or later, and it'll probably be completely out of our control, and we'll just deal with it the best way we can."

July 7
The girls lay sprawled on their beds.  Precious little else to do with the heat so all-pervasive.

"It's starting to cool off" Skye mentioned.

"How much?"

"Two degrees" Skye replied. "We're back in two digits instead of three."

For reasons the girls didn't completely understand, Chilao was actually hotter than the cities below, and the rest of the mountain. It had been 101 in the sun and 97 degrees in the shade for days. 

When they ventured outside, they found the evening sky was tinted with fire smoke.

"You think it's close?" Grace asked.

Skye thought about it for a moment.

"No. I remember what close looks like. I think it's pretty far away. But if we come out tonight and see a red glow then we'll know I was wrong."

The smoke drifted across the sky as the moon set.

July 9
The girls went for a pre-dawn ride, Grace riding bareback on tha appaloosa mare Lochsha, and Skye on her beloved BLM mustang, Ladyhawk.  The overnight temperatures had dipped just below 80. The morning, just before sunrise, was pleasant. And dry.

"I don't think we'll need to worry too much about keeping the wildies a secret right now" Grace said. "I know there's water above us and there should be water below us, but not right around here."

"I think you're right" Skye responded. "Maybe when this heat breaks we can go looking for them."  For today, their ride would be short, as the rising sun would bring an end to the pleasantries.

July 12
The skies grew ever more dramatic as the day cooled.  Grace and Skye looked out across the western horizon.  The clouds were a welcome sight.

"Think we'll get any rain?" Skye asked.
"I doubt it" Grace answered. "Seems like the thunderstorms are pretty fleeting, and fast moving. A few drops, a nice little cool down, and then they move on."

July 13
Saturday morning came early. Skye's laptop was still playing the Breyerfest Friday evening show. She'd watched it over and over, curled up in bed around the screen.

Grace couldn't tell if Skye was asleep or awake, but the dogs had chosen who they felt was most likely to turn them out, and feed them. Grace had spent the night watching Breyerfest rewinds too. 

The day dragged on, but at the last light, it was pleasant. Skye was bubbling with chatter as the girls took a walk to the back side of Mustang Rock.  It had been their lucky spot lately for finding wild horses, although the chances dwindled as the heat wore on.

"I want to try roman riding" Skye Said. " Those girls make it look so easy! And they are only eleven! Did you see the pads they used? It gave their feet some cushion, and the horse's back some cushion. And they had special shoes. Almost like ballet shoes. Once I saw them riding it all made sense."

Grace saw something move.

"And the trick riding rig where they stood up in the saddle? It was short just like the one you made. But the speed is what keeps you balanced. You lean way forward and the speed of the horse keeps you balanced, like riding into a strong wind..."

Grace wasn't answering.  Her gaze was focused on some shapes not too far away. The Newcomer and his mare and foal.

Skye fell silent. Grace took a seat on the rock ledge next to her.

The Newcomer was unruffled. Curious. He took a few steps towards them, trying to breathe in their scent, ears flicking back and forth as he watched them in the fading light.

And then, calmly, he and his harem moved off.

In a few more moments the sun would be down. The girls headed back to the ranch.  Skye's enthusiasm for the trick riding idea was undaunted.  They brought Sandstone and Granite down to the arena, the substantial grulla geldings that looked a bit like draft influence mustangs.

"These guys are pretty big" Grace commented. "Are you sure you want to start with such tall horses?"

"They're a matched pair, and they're gentle, and easy going. I think they'd be perfect." Skye explained. "Now if we could just figure out how...imagine if we could handle them like that Aussie, McLeod...total control at liberty..."

"McLean.  Guy McLean" Grace corrected.  
Grace held her mount still with slight hand pressure and Skye moved hers forward with a hand under his chin.

The geldings watched their human handlers intently, waiting for their next cue. Their eyes were soft. They were big and they had a lot of movement going on, but Grace could see in them a willingness. It was a crazy scheme perhaps, but if Skye worked at it, she might just succeed. And she'd been trying to learn how to stand up on a horse for some time now.

July 14
Big southern thunder woke the girls, the dogs, the horses. It was just light, perhaps 5:30 AM.

Lightning punctuated the pink dawn sky, and the rolling thunder shook the forest awake.  A mass of clouds moved swiftly overhead.

Skye ran down the road, camera in hand, chasing the rainbow to Mustang Rock.  A double rainbow, a faint bit of rain, the smell of petrichor as the sun rose. What a beautiful way to start the day.

July 20
The indoor arena was full of chatter. Skye was curious about the dogs accompanying Anahit and Lousin.

"The spaniel is Daisy. She is a certified therapy dog and mom usually has Daisy with her when she's working" Anahit explained. "Blossom isn't certified yet but she is a very good dog and she will pass her tests. We didn't know she was pregnant when we got her. She had just this one single pup. We call her Ada. She has the same odd head shape as Blossom. I think we'll be looking for a home for Ada."

Anoush straddled the big spotted drafter.  "He is so broad!" Anoush exclaimed. "What a great temperament he has. Very relaxed."

"I think the boss said he's a a German Cold Blood and Noriker cross. Skye calls him a German Cold Cut. Technicolor Lederhosen is his actual name. We call him Tech. Or the big spotted teddy bear."

The girls and dogs took a collective few steps back as Skye's Black Beauty loped by.  The boss must've turned her out.

Then Deer Medicine trotted past with her colt. Saddled. Skye was completely confused. She spun around to look at Grace. Grace was calm, her body language relaxed, her lips still. Skye turned back to look at Deer Medicine again. Saddled. Bridled. In a saddle she'd never seen before. Tooled. Stitched.

Skye caught the smell of new leather. The saddle pad was familiar, but nothing else.

The bosses' voice broke the now-silence in the arena. "Congratulations Skye. That's your saddle." The boss paused, but Skye didn't say anything, so she continued. "That's an Eagle Nest Ranch saddle. Brand new. There was a show in June we got invited to. Pretty sure I forgot to mention it to you."

The buckskin mare slowed to a walk.

"It was a Covid-style show.  Online.  Eagle Nest Ranch sponsored it.  And that's an Eagle Nest Ranch rig, even the bridle."

Silence.

"Anyway, long story short, it was a winner take all affair. And you won Skye. You and Blackjack, the Cassie Black mule." Skye was still silent.

"Now I know you aren't a saddle girl and I'm not forcing this one down your throat. I'm pretty sure Grace wouldn't mind taking it off your hands if you don't like it."

Skye swung up into the saddle.  Her feet just touched the stirrups.

"We get you some proper boots and that'll be a perfect fit" Grace interjected.

Skye had never met a saddle she really needed. But this one was a good fit. It squeaked of brand new leather. The tooling was amazing. The seat was comfortable. If she sat down deep, her feet found a little better traction in the stirrups. Skye still didn't know what to say. It was all a bit much to take in.

Outside, the moon rise lit the still, clear night. Sounds wafted in from the campgrounds, and the darkness was parted.

July 26
​The girls were alone for the weekend. The feeding, cleaning, exercising...dogs, cats, horses...everything.  They turned out groups of mares and geldings in the indoor arena.

The horses needed the exercise, and the arena was a bit cooler than the great outdoors.  Charmer was particularly energetic. No one had gotten out much in the long spell of heat.

"Meet me back down here after everyone is put up" Grace called to Skye.

"With or without a horse?"

"Without a horse."

"Your deer sold" Grace said, smiling.

"Awesome! I'll get a wheelbarrow."

"Can we just carry them?" Grace lifted the fawn. Took a few steps. Set it down.

"Are those solid concrete or what?"

"Some kind of ceramic" Skye answered. "Super heavy, huh?"

"Yeah, no kidding. Wheelbarrow it is."

July 28
Grace presented Skye with a pair of boots, albeit a bit apologetically.
"They aren't fancy boots" Grace said, almost cautionary. "In fact they aren't even real leather. But they might give you just enough leg to keep your feet in the stirrups on your new saddle."

Skye pulled on one boot.  It fit well enough.  The heel did make her one leg a bit longer than the other.  Grace was right.  There was a little bit of height with the sole and the heel.

"Stand next to me" Skye said, reaching up with her chin.

"I think I might be just a little bit taller. This might just work."

"Do they feel okay on your feet?"

"I think so. Let's go find out."

For the first time in weeks, the weather was beautiful. The insects less prevalent. The air delicious. And as Sunday evening fell on the forest, it was quiet, save for the sound of birds.

The horses became very alert.

It was Crazy's band, minus Crazy.

The lead mare that the girls called Lady Godiva was pushing the foals away from the conflict zone.  The girls didn't recognize the bay horse that Crazy was engaging.

Crazy seemed cautious.

La Barilla was getting increasingly active underneath Grace.

Skye looked at her saddle, rig, looked at Grace's.

"Your breast collar needs adjusting" Skye said softly.

Grace looked.
"So it does" she replied in a quiet tone. "I don't want to do it right now..."

"Oh come on" Skye teased, "what could possibly go wrong?"

After pushing the foals away a bit, Lady Godiva paused to watch Crazy and the bay.  Skye thought perhaps it was a mare.  A pretty big mare.  And not taking any guff from Crazy.  

While the dynamics of wild horse behavior has been the topic of so much observation, and the girls tried to learn what they could from other people's images and observations, they were rarely one hundred per cent sure they could label the behavior of their own local wildies.  But this appeared to be, as best as they could tell, a lone mare that was not looking to join Crazy's band, which seemed odd beyond  explanation.  A mare, any mare, wild or domestic, was first and foremost a herd animal.  So being alone would be frightening, and in the wild, dangerous.  

After a few more minutes of screaming and posturing, Crazy abruptly turned and rejoined his band, becoming one with the evening shadows and dappled light.

Grace and Skye watched until they couldn't see any horses. The bay moved off, over a ridge and out of sight. Crazy and his harem went in the opposite direction, the contours of the land folding them in.
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June 15, 2024
Dawn came warm.  The insect nations were stirring in their countless masses.

"I'd like to ride Firebird today" Skye said. Grace paused a moment before answering.

"The hyper-local weather report calls for breezy. What I'm hearing over the station radio is the potential for actual wind. So let's see how the next few hours go."

Firebird was built for speed, not necessarily trail riding. So they chose to head up the mountain, toward the back country, utilizing the relatively smooth dirt road. Such that anything in Chilao was smooth.

Firebird welcomed the chance to stretch out.  The girls were just getting their mounts into a hand gallop when unexpected company appeared.  A wild filly jumped out onto the road first, her dam close behind.

The wild mare and foal changed direction.  Rather than cross the road they shied away from Grace and Skye. They were running on the road now. The mare was big, and she was moving, but she was no race horse. The girls gained ground quickly.

Firebird and Windy Boy leaned into their power.  Firebird overtook the big sabino mare fairly easily.  Soon they were running side by side.

"Careful!" Grace called out.

Skye looked right into the eye of the big sabino mare. The mare was determined to leave her pursuers behind, but she didn't have speed on her side.

The big mare turned suddenly, her foal like a shadow, and headed off the road and into the tall grass.  Grace and Skye reined their horses in, staying on the road bed, watching as the mare and filly made their escape.

"That was the best ride ever" Skye beamed as they head back toward the ranch, Firebird reluctant to take a flat footed walk.

"That was a pretty good ride" Grace said, smiling.

June 16
Skye walked around in the big empty space where their table had been just a week before.

"Did the boss really lose our table at the powwow?" She asked. "And are we in any danger from that fire? All of a sudden it looks kind of ominous."

"The short answer is yes" Grace responded. "At least yes to the table part. She said the table might be on the trailer, which isn't unloaded yet. As for the fire...hopefully the smoke is from the fire in Gorman which is fairly far away. I just looked it up. It's called the Post fire and it's at 14,500 acres.

The girls stared into the reddened landscape. It was eerie and beautiful all at once. The smell of smoke was present, but not overwhelming. There was no ash fall, only smoke in the sky. And silence. They were just out of earshot of the fire station radio. Grace and Skye watched the light change as the smoke billowed in between them and the sun's light. Eventually, they headed back home.

As the sun sunk low on the horizon, Crazy's band emerged onto the same rocky landscape.  The rock ridge offered some small bit of relief from the biting insects, but only as long as there was a breeze.

As dusk fell and shadows deepened, the band needed to choose a location to spend the evening. Crazy's vigilance as a ruling stallion also placed him in a high risk predicament; there were no dog soldiers hanging around to help ward off predators.

June 29
"I should have worn my hat" Skye whispered.

They couldn't see anything, but they could hear, every now and then, the crunch of hooves against loose rock, or the swish of a tail. Down beneath the shade of the rock ledge, there were horses.

Chamise was in bloom.  The bones of fallen pine cones lay scattered all about.  Spent yucca flowers made a soft creamy pattern across the landscape.

​The Newcomer was still with the dark mare and foal. Taking advantage of both shade and breeze beneath the ledge, they rested in a narrow passage on the sprawling stone complex the girls called Mustang Rock.

The girls took a clue from the horses, and moved, quietly as possible, into the shade. The stone formed a near perfect seat for them, but they were no closer to getting a view of the horses.

Crazy knew he had company, but the dun horse posed no threat. He was completely non-confrontational, and moved his harem of two away at the slightest request. The girls were not visible, nor could he smell them, so their presence was as unknown to him as his was to them.

Crazy's band took refuge in the shade of a towering pine, growing thick and lush after two good winters.

After what seemed like a very long time of silence, the girls gave up, and headed home.

"Ouch!" Grace flailed her arms about her head and neck. "Damn it!"

Skye tried to swat it away, but it kept coming back.

"It's a deer fly!" Skye said, trying to follow its erratic moves. "Aren't they supposed to go away after they bite you?"

The afternoon was cooling, but Grace decided the arena might be a good alternative to deer fly encounters.

"Do you want to go out again this evening?" Skye asked. "We'll use fly spray this time. And maybe ride."

"I'd love to" Grace said. "Drives me crazy when we know there's horses about, but we can't see them."

Skye was just about ready to reply when she saw Lousin and Anahit making their way toward her. Grace also took notice. Talk of finding the wild horses ended abruptly.

All eyes followed Grace as she moved alongside La Barilla, and took a slightly exaggerated step to the right. After a second, he stepped sideways to the right. She did it again. He didi it again, slightly quicker.

"I want to teach him to dance" Grace explained. "Like just a few steps. A shimmy to the left, a shimmy to the right, a twirl, maybe a few steps forward and a few steps back."

Grace brought Moose down to the arena. Skye had a particular fondness for the big Morgan cross. He was a good horse...bold, willing, a mover.

For the life of them neither of the girls could remember the name of the new shire. Another looker, with big movement and an engaging personality. Anahit and Lousin approached Grace while Skye was preoccupied with the strawberry horse.

"So you know our mom is a social worker" Lousin began. "She has three girls right now..."

"Four" Anahit corrected.

"Heather sort of doesn't count" Lousin answered, then continued. "She has four girls under her supervision right now, three of them are young and very active, and she's looking to do something with them over the summer, like a camping trip or something."

"Like horse camping?" Grace asked.

"No" the sisters answered in unison. "The little girls are wild" Anahit explained. "I mean not wild. High energy."

"She meant wild" Lousin said. "They're a hand full. Our mom has an assistant, she came to the art opening...Heather came to the art opening too, in fact. She's not looking to put them on horses. She's looking for something fun to do with them, something they'll remember and cherish, something normal and healthy like a family would do."

"Well" Grace responded, "the boss isn't here right now, and we'd have to ask her. But if she says yes, we'll be happy to help."

Skye brought down the Vanner mare and foal. The afternoon sun was sinking low in the western sky and the air was delicious. It would have been perfect riding weather to go back out looking for the wildies. But neither Grace or Skye breathed a word about it. There was a mutual, awkward silence on the subject between them...an awkwardness that they maintained between the two of them while getting on with the business of exercising horses.

Lousin wrapped her arms around the filly. "You are just the most adorable..."

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May 5, 2024
Sunday dawned crisp and windy. An overnight rain left the land refreshed and glorious. Spring's flowers were getting ready to emerge in a big way.

The girls studied the landscape from the relative comfort of the Jeep. Grace thought she saw something move.  She edged the Jeep slowly along the rock ledge, hoping for a better view.  Late afternoon shadows played on the moving grasses and flowers.  Then Skye saw it too.

Moving shadows. Darting across the loose, rocky soil, horse shaped, curving with the contours of the land.

Grace rolled the Jeep forward more, trying to get a better look. Skye looked down over the edge for a moment.
"Whoa Grace, whoa..."

They saw the mare first. A big mare, a liver chestnut sabino, big head, big feet, big body. She was no minuscule mustang.  Her foal followed on her heels, a little copy of its mother, but with different facial markings, less body white, and big ears on a small head. The girls saw them for just a fleeting moment, and then the foliage, lush with spring, obscured their view, and the mare and foal slipped out of sight.  The girls, bundled in their ponchos, watched and waited, but the land fell still and silent again.

Back in the shelter of home, they pondered what they'd seen.

"I think we can say with certainty that something is happening with the wildies" Skye said. "And it just keeps getting more interesting."

"What though..." Grace replied. "Is this just the way of it? Herds aren't really sleepy and stable, they're dynamic and constantly changing and this is normal...or is something upsetting the balance."

Skye didn't have an answer. And today's sighting certainly didn't make anything more clear.

May 10
It was more or less suddenly high spring.  Flowers were blooming everywhere.
Skye could hardly watch the trail ahead for wanting to see the flowers. Grace was more focused on the changing sky.

Popcorn flower was one of Skye's favorites. There were so many varieties, from miniscule, low growing flowers to tall, showy shrubs. She had to get a better look...and carefully, because a tarantula wasp was also checking out the flowers.

Clouds were building quickly in the west. A T cell, Grace surmised. And then she heard a sound.

She'd never heard anything like it before, and it was coming toward them. A shrill vibration, almost like a racing drone; and then she saw it. It was no drone, but two birds, a pigeon flying for its life with a pursuer close behind, the air being ripped apart by the blinding speed of their flight.

The pigeon flung itself into the shelter of a thick pine tree and the pursuer swerved left. Chase over.

The predator circled, flying past the girls again at a much slower speed. A peregrine falcon.

"That was amazing!" Skye said, excited.

"Yeah it was. These clouds are pretty amazing too. Let's head back to the ranch."

"Oh man, we've got hours before dark. Besides, I'd love to see some lightning."
"Have you ever seen lightning up close?" Grace asked. "It's pretty scary. It's awesome and impressive for sure."  A little reluctantly, Skye submitted.  Probably nothing would happen, probably there would be no lightning.  But it was one of the things Grace was cautious about, so they headed toward home.

Grace had gotten accustomed to the helicopters working in Chilao, as had all the horses and dogs and everyone else. Men flying through the air tethered to a line was hardly reason to pause any more. As they rode back, the helicopters were coming in, carrying their various human and inanimate loads.

"Do you suppose the line workers are coming in because of the clouds?" Skye asked.

"Coincidence, I think" Grace replied. "It's near day's end on a Friday. I think they want to be in their cars and trucks and heading home at 5 PM. But if it wasn't almost 5 PM...yeah, they might be coming in to let the storm pass."

And the storm passed over...leaving a little rain somewhere down the mountain, leaving the night sky clear, dissipating as suddenly as it formed.

May 18
Wait until the afternoon, they told Skye, or go out in the morning, the light is better then for taking pictures.  Well, it wasn't exactly early morning or late afternoon, but Skye decided to give photographing the flowers a try.

There was only going to be one way to do these flowers justice, and that was getting down on the ground with them.

The boss's old camera was fickle, but when it chose to focus on the same things Skye wanted to focus on, it was amazing.  The day ws deliciously warm, the air was cool.  All was quiet and peaceful.

Even the invasive cheat grass was a work of art to view through the lens.  Skye found tall, slender stalks with green and white stripes and a bulging, unopened flower. A lily of some sort, Skye guessed.  It was easy to lose herself in the beauty. Beauty all around.  

Shadows played on the landscape.  Skye was distracted by a shadow that seemed to be moving. She looked up from a bed of yellow and white flowers.  With a clatter of hooves on stone the shadow turned and moved away.

Skye tried to follow with the camera. Formidable foliage stood in her way.  But she was sure of what she saw. It was Petrichor. At last. And then he was gone.

She could hardly wait to tell Grace. No. Maybe just show her the pictures...and watch the look on her face.  Her beloved Petrichor, whom they had seen little of in recent months...Grace would probably know exactly how long it had been since they'd seen him last...alive and well.

May 19
Evening shadows were about to envelope the mountain.  Grab and Skye had gone on foot to Mustang Rock.  The presence of wild horses had been foretold by their domestic horses, so the girls moved cautiously, trying to stay out of view, hoping to get close to the wildies without being seen.  Skye crept up a stone slope soundlessly.

"Can you see anything?" Grace whispered.

Skye could. Barely.

And then so could Grace.
"A goldie" she whispered.

Highlander caught wind of the girls.

"Palomino?" Skye asked.

"Dun?" Grace responded with a question.

"Dunalino?"

Grace smiled. "I don't know. Time will tell."

The herd moved away, slowly.  Red bugler penstamen made a thin cover. But somehow, the girls could tell Highlander wasn't going to charge them.

th dun mare was a good momma, protective and attentive to her young foal.

"It's a colt!" Sky said softly.

"Yes it is."

The girls watched until the horses moved out of view. This was the first foal born to Highlander's band, and he was unusually calm. No need to mess up a beautiful moment by pressing in too close.  The trees captured the day's last light as the girls headed back to the ranch.  The horses slipped away into the rugged land.


May 20
Skye was both frustrated by and falling in love with photography. Armed with the camera, all the world becomes a subject...even if tracking that subject as it does some unusual...or perhaps unexpected...behavior is difficult.  So it was as she tried to follow a red tailed hawk in what appeared to be the slow motion pursuit of a raven.  Sworn enemies, it seemed impossible that the hawk could be doing anything other than warding off the raven while expending minimal energy.  At the opposite end of the size spectrum, her next subject was a hummingbird.

It was high spring and the skies were busy, with all nature of things.

Grace had grown accustomed to the helicopters, as had most everyone. Still, it wouldn't be a day to expect wild horses to be hanging around.

The girls took a walk to the seasonal stream below the fire station. The local rivulets of water would dry soon. They had been so fortunate to have water for this long. Best to honor it with their attention while they could.  Each amazing detail, from minute flowers and mosses to water insects.

The dogs in the water roused an unexpected resident, a tree frog as they are commonly known.  People flying through the air was becoming a common sight.

"I think they're taking a video!" Skye said.

"I think you're right" Grace said. "It's not an every-day view to get a video from, that's for sure."  

Skye waved, wondering if in fact they were in the video. And off to work the linemen  went, flying through the air.

Skye found a flower she'd never seen in Chilao before.

"I think it's a kind of mallow" Skye said.

"One of the boss's friends will know" Grace assured her

May 25
Late afternoon in Chilao, and calm for a holiday weekend. The girls listened, looked.  Precious and Missed A Spot were equally attentive, in their mature, calm way.  Grace just had a feeling.  The horses were focused.

There! They saw him. Just for a fleeting moment, but unmistakable. It was Petrichor.

They rode carefully down the rock escarpment to where he'd stood moments earlier. Grace swung a leg over Spot's neck, smiling. She whispered to Skye.

"Hold my beer."

Skye saw a flash of purple in the flowers, mingled in the red.  A hummingbird.
And then other movement.  But she couldn't say anything.  She didn't want to startle anyone.

Grace moved quietly down the rock face.  Out in the open now, Grace could see to the stream, a trickle of water still flowing.

Skye could see Petrichor's band, less the black mare she called Thorn.

And Skye could see Petrichor.

As Grace moved quietly over the rocks, a lizard came toward her, stretching itself on the rock she was traversing, nearly at her feet. And instead of moving away at her approach, it just stayed there. The lizard closed its eyes for a few moments and appeared to be napping.  Completely comfortable with her. Almost touching her boot.  It was fascinating, and unusual behavior, and Grace was mesmerized by the intricate detail of the lizard's coloring that allowed it to blend so seamlessly into the rocks.

Precious, Skye's mount, let out a short, warning blow, breaking the lizard's spell. Grace spun around.  Petrichor was behind her.

There was a lot of prancing around, ear flicking, tail swishing, every now and then a loud breath.  The stallion had a lot of little scars and scrapes, but overall Petrichor looked healthy. Then she noticed his eye. Something was different.

The right eye looked fine.  He came in slowly. Very slowly.

Grace moved her hand ever so soft and slow. He followed with his head until she could get a better look at his left eye. It was streaked with areas of blue, interlaced with golden brown. it wasn't completely milky or cloudy.  The eyelid and surrounding skin was unscarred.

He stayed with her. Perhaps for a minute. Perhaps two or three minutes. Longer than he'd done in the past.  She touched his nose.  They exchanged breath.  He was both active, moving his ears, lips, tail, feet...and yet exuding a sense of calmness.  

And then he departed.

Petrichor ignored Skye and her mounts. They watched quietly as he passed by.

Skye rode down to where Grace stood, with Spot in tow.

"As soon as you started heading toward the creek he came up behind you" Skye said. "That was pretty exciting."

"Yeah it was."

"Did you see a rattlesnake or something?"

"No," Grace replied, "it was a lizard. The craziest thing Skye. This lizard just came up and decided to hang out with me."

"You are popular with the wildlife today."

It was a lovely ride back to the ranch, on every level.
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​

May 3, 2024
It was Art Night at MIM.  The arena was all set up, the sand footing smoothed, the easels carefully placed.  The equus prints by Phariss Sacha had each been removed from their protective coverings, and adhered to their backing boards.  The easel paintings by Katy Niles made a strong, colorful, balanced contrast. Skye's deer family and two of her watercolors of trees were also on display.

Seeing the turnout and how everything came together made the considerable work of art night feel worthwhile.  Anahit and Lousin introduced Grace and Skye to two of their friends, Crustal and Heather.  Riders and stable hands milled about, along with many of Grace and Skye's dogs.  It was going to be a good show.

May 4
Show day at last. Grace kicked it off with a one woman grand entry on her beloved Windy Boy.  Skye watched them fly down the rail. Windy Boy was Grace's favorite horse to ride when she first came to the ranch. The two of them still had a special bond.

And then a calf tore down the rail! Whose calf, they really weren't sure, but he was cute, and he could move

English events came first. Skye watched a young girl who couldn't have been older than nine or ten put her pony over jumps with all the style of a veteran rider, and an eager smile on her face the whole while.  Hunters and jumpers. Glorious horses. But a lot of work to put up and take down the jumps and change the course.

English english english. It went on for a long time.  There were some beautiful horses in the arena.  English games. Other english. It was all fun to watch.  It was all pleasant and friendly, but there were some seriously competent horses and riders in the arena.  

Finally, in the afternoon, the western division began, and Grace got to ride for Tara Reich's stable.  The calves seemed to know they were up against a horse they couldn't outmaneuver.

And at last, the calves got their little bit of limelight.

Barrels.  Poles. Grace felt sometimes like she might be better off just to sit down and hang on. There wasn't much this horse couldn't do on her own.  Roll backs and slides as smooth as silk.

Tara's western pleasure horse was equally responsive...on a completely different level.

Skye wandered outside when there was a lull in the action. It was so hard to be inside all day, even it it was a horse show. She watched a bank of clouds moving up the mountain and felt the moist chill it brought with it. It would be a cold night.

Back inside the arena, Grace was putting the finishing points on the horse who would take the high point performance challenge title.

Then Dahlia slipped comfortably into the saddle, looped the reins around the horn, and using only her weight to guide her horse, made an impressive mounted archery exhibition.

Skye loved the other regalia class. Mulan reminded her of Mikki.  And the medieval warrior was breathtaking.

​It had been a long day, but a really good one, especially for Grace, riding GTFO Imposter Syndrome to the performance high point championship.

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April 4, 2024
Peering down from the warmth of the big red truck, Skye saw the tiny tracks of a hopping rodent in the snow.

"I've never loved the Pavement Queen as much as I do this morning" Skye said.

Grace smiled.

"Wouldn't be so bad but for that little breeze. It'll warm up quick though. Not a cloud in sight."

"Are we going to the track day with the boss?"
Grace thought for a moment.
"Honestly, I'd rather stay here and hold down the fort."
"You mean look for Petrichor" Skye said, smiling.
"Yes. I would really like to find Petrichor."

"Just right now, I would like to find Petrichor from the warmth of the truck" Grace confessed.

The day had been lovely - but as finding Petrichor, or any wild horses for that matter, the girls had been unsuccessful.

"You know there's an eclipse tomorrow" Skye mentioned as the sun made its final appearance on the horizon. "We won't be able to see much of it from here though, I guess."

"We could try" Grace said.

April 8
The wind blew in strong, icy cold gusts and Grace struggled to keep her feet and focus the image.

"Where'd that camera come from?"
"The boss gave it to me. Said it was her first digital camera. And she thought it still worked okay."
"Well, don't point it directly at the sun."
"Actually she said she didn't care if I did, but I should be careful of my eyes."
"Good advice."

Grace struggled in the wind with a white sheet of cardboard, trying to focus the image of the partially covered su on another, much larger piece of white cardboard.

"I can't get it quite perfect. But you can see it, right?"

"So that's the moon shadow on the top?"
"Yup."
Skye tried to photograph the pinhole image, but Grace was having trouble getting it to come into good focus.

"Well, I can sort of get it" Skye said.
"When is our next chance to try again?"
"In twenty years" Grace replied.
"Oh. Well. I guess don't need to keep your pinhole device handy then."

April 13
It was a wind-blown mist...like being inside of a cloud. Skye decided to take the camera and a couple of dogs and go for a walk. How bad could a little mist be?
But as they faced into the wind, the mist came in harder, stinging cold and driven by gusts of impartial wind. Skye tried to get a picture that would do it justice, but it was difficult. Soon her hands were beginning to feel numb.

And soon the mist became rain.

Skyre retreated to the warmth of home.

"We haven't been riding all month!" Skye exclaimed, hair slicked down with moisture.  "And that was the most miserable walk in the rain I think I've ever taken. It was freezing cold and painful!"

"Maybe tomorrow will be better. But you know, as soon as the rain is done, it'll be hot, and there will be a thousand biting insects, and rattlesnakes and coyotes and bears..."

"I know. There's maybe one or two days where you can lay on the green grass and take a nap...and then it changes..."

"Thursday was nice" Grace reminded Skye.

"It was! And then Friday was cold! See what I mean?"

"We'll see what tomorrow brings. If the weather isn't cooperating maybe we'll ride in the arena or something."

"By the way, have you noticed who found the lower bunk bed?"

It took Skye a moment.  

"Vinnie?"

"Yup. He looks pretty comfy."


April 14
The air was still, and cloud cover muted the colors of dawn.

Crazy's band looked fit. The foals moved confidently in front of their dams.

Highlander and his mares were not far behind. In much the way Highlander had shadowed Petrichor, he now seemed to be shadowing Crazy, but with a slightly greater distance between them.

The girls emerged above the horses, in plain sight, but also safe. It was good to see the wild ones again. But the absence of Petrichor and his band left a hole in Grace's chest. Skye loved him too, but not the way Grace did.

The snow began to fall again.  The girls retreated to the arena, where Anoush, Anahit and Lousin found them.

The arena was no warmer than the air outside, but it was dry.
"I think I need a therapist" Skye exclaimed.
"Naw" Grace  said,  "the boss runs around in her pajamas all the time. You're fine."
"No, that bridle! It has more buckles and straps...and then I got it it all done and I realized I attached one of the reins backwards..."

The english bridle Luna wore was far more complicated than any western rig.

"It's okay" Grace reassured. "You did a great job. I think the...cavesson?...could be a little higher, but don't even worry about it."

"What is that for?"

"Ground work, I believe. You can put a long line on the nose band and use the reins to set the horse's head, or let them be loose."

"She's very nice" Anoush said of Luna. "Someone has definitely put some some work into her."

Grace noticed that Anoush wasn't posting at the trot.

"I couldn't get the left stirrup to adjust" Anoush explained. "It's okay, this is good practice for me. Skye is this your saddle? It seems the stirrups were set for someone about your size."

"Oh no ma'am" Skye said, laughing. "I wouldn't have a clue how to sit in that saddle."

Anoush rode Luna a bit longer before encouraging Skye to give it a try. Skye's feet were a little wide in the stirrups and her reins were a touch loose. But her seat was good. Comfortable. Natural.

"Create a little bit of contact with her mouth through the reins. Just ever so slight. She's very responsive. Point your toes more inward. Beautiful. Very nice."

"Now bring her down to a walk using only your weight in the saddle."  Skye knew how to do that. Luna immediately dropped to a walk as Skye released the reins. "And there you are" Anoush said, "riding on the buckle."

The snow came in thick flurries all afternoon.

"For my next equine experience, I'm going to try trick riding" Skye told Lousin and Anahit.

"I looked everywhere for your trick riding rig that you used with La Barilla for the review" Skye said to Grace, "but I couldn't find it, so I made another one. Do you think I could try it?"
"On who?"
"How about this guy?"
"Uhhh...maybe..."

Clay was a good horse. If he had any quirks, Grace hadn't encountered them. She helped Skye into the saddle, then watched as she fitted her rig over the saddle horn.

"I think you made the same mistake I did Skye. It's too short. And that leather is super thick. Where'd you get that?"
"The boss. She thought it might have been upholstery leather. It's like water buffalo or something. Super thick."

Grace looked at her mount. His eyes were calm. "Clay no matter what, you just hold still."

Grace was right. The leather was too thick, and too short. Getting from sitting to standing was the hard part. And not using the reins for balance. But then, after a few false starts, Skye did it.

Clay kept all four feet planted.
"Let's call this success" Grace said.
"Okay!" Skye agreed.

At last, the cold won out, and the girls were content to call it a day.

A good day, by all accounts. Perhaps they would find Petrichor soon.

April 15
The helicopters were working as close as Skye ever remembered. She convinced Grace to come out with her and watch.*

It was impressive, to be sure.

"Is that little helicopter the kind they use for wild horse round ups?" Skye asked.

"The ones I've seen in pictures are usually even smaller. Bubble shaped and very manueverable."

""Would our wildies even know to run away?"

"I think they'd get the idea when the helicopter started approaching them. And then once one horse starts running, they all run."

Skye thought about it for a while. "Our horses...Francis's horses...I think we can be pretty sure they were originally Francis's horses...they wouldn't know about being chased by a helicopter, would they? They have no freeze marks. Don't they always get freeze marks if they're captured?"

Skye had a good point.

Grace replied.
"So, if our wild horses are Francis's wild horses, unless there were new horses added to the herds recently, these horses would be several generations removed from the original horses she rescued and brought to her sanctuary."

"And as much as I don't really care for having the helicopters around here" Grace continued, "I wish I could get a ride in one and go look for Petrichor."

April 20
It was suddenly spring...insects and all.

Grace and Skye rode the familiar places, looking for signs of wild horses in the quickly fading light. They came up empty handed, although any time spent on a horse was usually good.  They would try again tomorrow.

April 21
On Sunday, as the sun slipped low into the western sky, the girls headed to Mustang Rock.

Skye had an eerie sensation.
"I feel like we're being watched" she said.
"We probably are" Grace replied. "It's going to be dusk in a moment, so all the night things are getting about their business."

The moon was brilliant in the soon-to-be-dark sky.

"Is tomorrow the full moon?"
"Tomorrow or the next day" Grace replied.

Ladyhawk was doing a lot of dancing around.
"She sure is antsy" Skye said.
Grace watched. Ladyhawk was always a lot of horse, but she did seem even a bit moreso tonight.

And then they saw something moving through the rocks, a shadow against shadows. The mare Skye named Thorn.

They hesitated for a moment, and then followed her.

The mare was not interested in letting them get too close. She broke into a gallop, and with a clattering of hooves on rock scrambled up a steep escarpment to the top of the rock formation.

"Did you see that?"  Skye shrieked.  "That horse is nuts!"

Nuts might have been an understatement. Grace stood in the saddle, looking for the other horses she'd hoped the black mare was leading them to. She strained to hear. But all she heard was the occasional clattering of Thorn's hooves on the rocks above them.

The black mare spun around to take a last look at her pursuers before disappearing into the fading light.

The sun slipped behind the mountain, the cool, soothing sound of running water trickling into the girls' consciousness.

They paused for a moment on their way back to the ranch to take it in. Seemed like spring was here now, and the sound and sight of running water all around might soon be a memory. For a moment, the creek's melody took Grace's mind away from her thoughts of Petrichor. But only for a moment.


April 29
Outside, the day was picture perfect. A cool morning warming gently under a clear blue sky.  But the girls were inside, helping the boss get ready for the upcoming horse show.

"I like them so much better out of their protective sheeting" the boss said of the Sacha Phariss prints. "I know it's going to be a lot of extra work, but I think I want to take them all out of their plastic sleeves and mount them onto their backing boards. Otherwise that reflection...it's just so distracting."

The boss turned to Skye.  "Do you think I'm being too OCD? Should we just hang them in their plastic and forget about it?"

Skye was watching the foals in the arena introduce themselves.  She was much too distracted to have an opinion.

"Grace" the boss said, "why don't you answer? I'm being too OCD, right?"

"I love my job and I love my life" Grace responded. "And you aren't wrong, the reflection definitely takes away from being able to appreciate the work. Whether or not that makes you OCD is...ummm...outside the limits of my expertise. But it sounds like you've already made up your mind anyway, and the plastic is coming off. "

The boss smiled. Then she frowned. "They might get dusty. That would be terrible."

Grace replied quickly this time. "We can wet down the arena."

The boss smiled again. "Yes we can."

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​

March 23, 2024
Skye stood and stared at the english saddle pad, in awe of its ornateness, its finery.

"You can get closer" Grace said. "It won't bite you."

"That is the fanciest saddle pad I've ever seen. And it's pink!"

"We have a white one too."

"Who made these?"

"StudioMaire."

"I've never...how are we going to keep these clean?"

Grace didn't have an immediate answer, but after a fair pause, she responded.

"Very carefully."

March 24, Just before dawn
There was more of a crunching sound beneath La Barilla's hooves than Grace was comfortable with. The snow wasn't soft and snowy.
She saw tracks, and guessed them to be fox...not the long-ranging, single foot trot of the coyote.

They went slowly and carefully. The rising sun would quickly warm the ground.

There was no sign of the wild horses that Grace so longed to see.  As the air warmed, the frozen snow melted, but before it made its journey all the way back to liquid water, it became a bit more slippery. Grace decided to turn around, and take a path back that was still mostly in the shadows.

That path took them near a snow melt pool in the fire break.  La Barilla's hind legs slid in the saturated soil, and kept sliding, folding under him. He began slipping sideways.  He scrambled.  Grace leaned forward over his shoulders, gave him his head, hoping somehow she could help him balance, but the ground offered no traction.  La Barilla's hooves slipped out from underneath him, and he plunged into the icy pool.

Grace pulled up her right leg, then let go of the reins and went into the water. The soil was incredibly slick.

A layer of ice covered the surface of the water. La Barilla was pressed against it, all four legs beneath him. Little more than a depression left by heavy equipment, the hole and the water were deceptively deep.

La Barilla lurched forward, scrambled up the steep bank, almost to the top, before slipping back into the water. If Grace could get him to go back out the way they'd fallen in...

He lunged forward again. Thrusting with his whole body, stabbing front hooves into the soft soil like anchors, every fiber focused, deliberate, determined. He scaled the slippery bank.

La Barilla seemed no worse for the wear. Grace was none too sure on her own feet, in boots not made for walking on water, but she decided to walk La Barilla home nonetheless.

In one of the outdoor arenas, Anahit and Lousin's mom greeted Grace cheerfully. As she got closer, she sensed a bit of concern about Grace.

"Is everything well? Where is Skye?"

Grace took a deep breath. "Everything is good. Skye wasn't feeling well, and then she stayed up all night watching documentaries on the arctic, the antarctic, and the origins of life on earth. I can tell you that, because I couldn't see the screen, but I was often listening."

Mom laughed. "Is she going to be a biologist?"

"Maybe" Grace said. "She's very tuned in to the environment, on a big-picture scale. So I went out for a ride this morning without her, and we fell in a water hole. Totally my fault. I chose the wrong path back."

"On this horse?"

"Yes."

Mom studied La Barilla for a moment. "He appears to be just fine. Did you get hurt?"

"Nope, just wet. And I was so concerned that La Barilla might have gotten hurt, it took me a while to realize he was also soaking wet under the saddle, and get him untacked."

As Grace spoke, the cloud cover thickened, and a cool breeze moved restlessly across the arena. Mom noticed Grace's pants. They were wet to the top of her legs.

"I think you should put your horse in a nice dry stall and then do the same for yourself. Go inside and get out of those wet clothes."

She was probably right. Grace wanted to show her the retooled english saddle, and the beautiful saddle pads, and ask her many questions...including what she liked to be called, besides mom...but perhaps this wasn't the morning for all of that.

March 31, Easter Sunday
Grace and Skye made their way to the tack room during a break in the rain.

"Still think going barefoot to keep your shoes dry was a good idea?"

"I don't know" Skye giggled. "I can't feel my feet."

Sitting atop the pink and white english saddle pads, Grace found herself being stared at by a giant stuffed Easter bunny.  The Berber saddle on the next rack held an Easter basket, from which peered gingerbread men.  "Hoppy Easter"  tea the card in front of the basket.

"From the boss?" Skye asked.

"Nope. Dear Grace and Skye, we hope you have a wonderful Easter, and Skye, please get well soon. Stay warm! Anoush, Anahit and Lousin."

Grace surveyed the Easter basket. "No shortage of love in here."

"Anoush! What a pretty name! And now she knows we have these fancy new saddle pads."

​                                                                                                    #

March 16, 2024
Grace lay bundled in her blanket, watching the dance of the pre-sunset clouds through the window.  Skye was already napping.  A cold breeze and higher than normal humidity left both of the girls chilled at the end of the day.  Grace's mind wandered to thoughts of the wild horses. They had seen Crazy's band.  They had seen the bachelor stallions with the blue-black mare and her foal.  But no Petrichor.  

The boss said she had something she wanted to share with the girls, and maybe they could get together tomorrow.  Grace was curious about it.  But she also wanted to keep looking for Petrichor.  Perhaps in the morning when the chores were done, they could ride for a while.  Then meet with the boss.  Hopefully with good stories to share.

March 17
No sooner had the girls saddled up, the wind began to blow.  The weather was unsettled.  Big clouds in the distance, blue skies overhead, and a restless wind that you could hear approaching through the trees.  It was forceful and erratic, shaking the trees in one draw and not the next; then suddenly coming upon them with little warning.  It was exhilarating, and from time to time quite unpleasant.

The girls pressed slowly into a rocky shelter where the wild horses often hid from the wind.

"Did you hear about Tanner's dog getting chased by coyotes?" Skye asked.

"I didn't.  Is his dog okay?"

"She is.  She outran them.  A pair of them.  Probably the same pair we've seen a couple of times.  I guess they chased her right up to the house, and then they saw Tanner and took off.  It was night time."

"The wild things really own this place by night"  Grace said. 

They waited for the wind to relent, but it didn't.  Eventually, they left the rock shelter and headed back to the ranch, empty-handed as horse sitings go.

The arena was adorned as if for a horse show, with the little table they used as a judging station propped in the southwest corner.

"What's all this?"  Skye asked.

"The boss asked me to bring a laptop and a table down here so she could share a story with us."

"Oh. Hey.  Like reading with dogs at the library...except we're reading with horses!"

The arrival of the boss was announced by the entrance of Contessa and Tosh.  The boss put a thumb drive in the laptop and settled her hindquarters on the table next to it.

"You will recall that I've been looking for the owner of the Great Danes since last June"  she began.  "And I never really gave up. That they are chipped and so I have their owner's name, and a phone number, and I've called, but I've never made contact with anyone.  Well.  I met a woman in Lancaster.  She had been a docent at the Antelope Valley Rural Museum, and she had a manuscript, an anthology that was never published, written by a dear friend who had passed away.  And she said the name sounded familiar."

The girls brought Angel into the arena, using him to try out the english saddle.  The girth and stirrup leathers had been replaced by Donna Allen.  Grace wasn't a thousand per cent sure she knew what she was doing, but she tried to divide her attention equally between the boss turned story teller and the horse more or less under saddle.

The boss continued.

"The woman found her friend's manuscript and shared it with me.  But she literally would not let it out of her hands, so I had to re-type the story as she read it to me.  The anthology is called 'Real Pioneer Women of the Modern West', and this story is dated July 12, 1980.  The title is 'Saint Francis of the Mustangs'."  

Outside, the clouds danced.  The air was unstable, the wind lulled, then gusted.  It was beautiful.  One of the most beautiful days ever, perhaps.

The boss cleared her throat, put on her narrator voice, and began. 
"Francis Loop Caldwell is the youngest woman in this collection of pioneering women, but she is every inch as worthy as any other.  And quick to point out that her story is really not so much her own.  She is her father's daughter.  She is the product of everything that he was, and in her own words, 'You cannot tell my story without telling his.  I was forged by my parents, my mother and father both, but especially by my father.  He was the real pioneer.  I am just his daughter, trying to live up to his legacy'."

"Her father's story was shaped by The Great Depression, and The Dustbowl.  The son of first generation Oklahoma farmers, William James Caldwell was eldest of four boys.  Life was hard, but come 1930 with the first year of the drought, it got a lot harder.  Few people had savings to live on if their crops failed.  They just prayed for rain and held on as best they could.  1931 and 1932 were no better, and the winds intensified.  Livestock perished, and farmers faced famine and foreclosure.  William had been given a pair of young Belgian horses in the spring of 1932, Jim and Jeb.  They were beautiful animals, but their owner couldn't feed them any more, and didn't need them.  Horses were quickly being replaced by machines for plowing the fields."

"In 1933, the mass slaughter of livestock began.  Millions of animals were killed, some of them in an attempt to stabilize market prices, and some of them because they were already dying the slow death of starvation.  Jim and Jeb were thin, but William made sure they had water, shelter from the wind, and as much feed as he could find for them. In February, William's father told him it was time to let Jim and Jeb go."

"The next morning, well before dawn, William led his beloved horses out of their shelter.  He lay a make-shift set of saddle bags - two potato sacks tied together at the top with all of his belongings inside - on Jim, and he swung up on Jeb.  They headed west, to California."

" 'Okies, that's what folks called the people leaving their farms behind and heading to California' Francis explained.  'It was about 1,700 miles, and my dad figured it would take them about one hundred and thirteen days.  Belgians aren't known for their speed, and his horses were already a bit on the thin side.  So his goal was fifteen miles a day.  He would walk part of it, and ride part of it, and switch back and forth with his saddle bags.  A lot of people weren't very nice to him.  Okies weren't thought of in a good way.  They were treated pretty bad.  Even other Okies would talk down to him.  Tell him to get with the times.  The days of horses were over.  But then there were also kind folks.  They took pity on Jim and Jeb.  They'd let him stay overnight on their property and share what food they had with dad and the horses.  He said it seemed like every time he thought they just couldn't go on, something good would happen.  Some human angel would come to their aid, or they would find a bit of pasture grass and water'."

" 'At first my dad was going to head to the San Joaquin valley.  There was rich farmland there and the hope was that the Okies could make a new start there.  But then somehow he heard about Santa Anita, the race track.  Brand new, not even completed yet. It was all a gamble, you know?  No one knew what their future held.  There was no guarantee that the San Joaquin Valley would be the next bread basket of the nation.  So he gambled.  And he started heading toward Santa Anita.'"

" 'Jim and Jeb were tired, and really thin.  My dad was tired, and really thin.  But he started coming across horse people.  A very different kind of horse people.  Big money horse people.  But they saw the love my dad had for those poor horses...and they saw beyond the bones, those were good horses...they saw there was a story there, and they were intrigued.  A couple of folks stopped to talk to my dad, and pretty quick word got around that this man had walked out of Oklahoma with his horses to save them from being slaughtered.  And he was trying to make his way to Santa Anita.  And where he was.  And someone with a horse trailer went out looking for him, and they found him, and picked him up...dad and his horses, so skinny they both fit in a trailer designed for race horses.' "

" 'The rest of it is really a bit of a Cinderella story.  My dad got hired to do just about everything.  Jim and Jeb got fed and put up better than they'd ever known.  He'd seen my mother early on, and for him it was love at first sight, but he knew that along with his story came the stigma of being an Okie.  So he laid low.  He learned the lingo of the horse racing world and tried to lose his Okie accent.  He gained some weight and got some good clothes.  He was too big to be a jockey, but he could exercise horses and he wasn't afraid of the really excitable ones.  Eventually he would ride a horse for my mother's family, and they would be introduced.  They married about a year later, and I was born the following year, in 1936'."

"Francis would have a charmed childhood, until December 1941.  William James Caldwell joined the US Army Air Forces.  He trained to be a fighter pilot, and embarked on a tour of duty that lasted until 1945.  Upon his return home, his love for and skill with horses was rivaled by a new passion - aviation.  His aeronautic skills were sought after, particularly as a stunt pilot. And that, Francis explains, is how she got her name."

'Loop was my dad's nickname after the war, because he was known for doing aerial loops.  The nickname was made popular by one of the main characters in a Shirley Temple movie, Bright Eyes I think it was, and it stuck with him for the rest of his life.  So my middle name - Loop - that's in his honor. It is now my legal middle name.' "

" 'While my father was away, my mom began breeding and showing Great Danes.  They aren't particularly fierce dogs, but I think she took comfort in their size and presence, what with my dad being away.  And it just happened that in the 1940s and 1950s, the Great Dane was extremely popular, so she was quite successful with her dogs, and of course, she had the best of the best bloodlines.' "

"Today we know Francis by a different nickname - Saint Francis of the Mustangs.  Francis has worked tirelessly to address the plight of the west's wild horses - in America and Canada - not only by appealing to legislators for better herd management practices, but by creating her own wild horse sanctuary in the southern Antelope Valley.  It seems a far cry from the horse world of the race track, and of course it is.  But for Francis, it is the continuation of a journey that began with her father."

" 'When I was fifteen years old, we took a family vacation to Canada, near Alberta.  And we saw wild horses.  Wildies, the locals called them.  They were small, and tough, and built like miniature draft horses, but with small nostrils and ears and less dramatic profiles.  They were clearly draft influence mustangs.  The offspring of discarded heavy horses, turned loose to fend for themselves with the wild herds when their owners no longer needed them. And they were under fire, literally.  Ranchers saw them as competition for grazing, and the governing bodies didn't want to deal with them.  I will never forget what it felt like to see them.  The rush of excitement I felt.  The longing...to do something to help save them.  It was a pivotal moment in my life.  I had to do something to insure that wild horses could remain on the western landscape.' "

" 'Creating a sanctuary was a dream...I think every young girl dreams of having her own private herd of wild horses, don't they?  But over time I realized there were horses that were going to be euthanized or sold for slaughter if no one stepped in to save them.  Good horses.  Not that any animal deserves the fate we humans often assign them...but there are really nice horses out there that aren't going to enjoy a long or good life if someone doesn't adopt them and then treat them well.' "

" 'So we began buying land.  Mountainous, rugged parcels.  Big parcels, preferably with surface water, which is fairly rare in southern California mountains.  And of course the parcels needed to be connected. We are currently looking to purchase one more parcel, a large parcel, that includes a water source and a good sized grass meadow.  When that purchase is complete, we will have a substantial sanctuary.  We won't be able to save all of the horses that need saving, but we will be able to save some, and that is significant. ' "

"Don't go looking for a big sign swinging over the driveway to Saint Francis of the Mustangs Sanctuary.  Francis prefers to keep her herd of 'wildies'...well...wild...and out of the public view.  Not that she doesn't wish to share them with the world and with every horse crazy young girl. Nothing would please her more than to instill in others the love for horses that she has in her own heart.  But first, the horses themselves need to be safe.  It will be a while before the sanctuary opens its arms to the public."

" ' We are witnessing the continued demise of the horse in the lives of the people, all over the world, really.  And it's a big loss.  It's a loss to humanity, to our spirits, to who we are as humans.  My father witnessed it first hand and first-generation as the mechanized plow replaced horsepower.  Today we witness it across the American west, as horses become a nuisance species, having no value to the powers that now manage the land.' "

"And for that vision, that courage, and that commitment, though Francis may be young, she is truly a real pioneer woman of the Modern West."

The boss closed the laptop, smiled, and pretended not to be emotional.

Later in the evening, Grace and Skye drove in silence to Manzanita Campground to watch the sunset. 

"Dang, we need sunglasses" Skye said, too short to benefit from the visor.

Grace parked the truck, drew a deep breath, and exhaled.

There was another long silence.

"This is going to sound crazy" Skye finally said.  "But I feel...like...connected somehow to Francis. It's so weird. I can't explain it."

"I get it"  Grace said.  "I feel it.  Like literally in my chest. I feel it.  We are connected to her.  Directly.  Through the dogs.  Through the horses.  Our wild horses are almost certainly her wild horses.  Through..."

"Through Petrichor"  Skye blurted out.  "Maybe Petrichor was one of her favorite horses.  Maybe that's why he's sort of not really that wild."

Grace looked at Skye, parted her lips several times as if she was going to answer, finally shook her head.

"I don't know."
                                                                                                        #

March 1, 2024

Skye walked into the tack room to find the towering life-sized sculpture The Bremen Town Singers by Kitty Cantrell in the middle of the floor. 

"Hey! What's this doing here?"

"Getting ready to be shipped to Washington."

"It sold?"

"It did."
Skye ran her hands along the blue ticked hound.

"That's so cool. And...I'm gonna miss this doggie-o. I think this is the best thing I ever painted."

"Well, then I guess we better paint some more things."

March 3
The rain had stopped. The sky was dynamic, with bits of blue sky swallowed in seconds by dark clouds. Skye pressed forward, the sound of horses just ahead, and Grace forever falling behind.  The girls pressed themselves against the rock face as they approached the wild horses on foot, trying to stay out of sight for as long as possible.

"Am I stepping on Dudleya?" Skye whispered.

"No, I think that's some sort of buckwheat. Carry on."

They found a ringside seat to watch the action, but they were rather exposed, and not holding the high ground.

The commotion was Storm and Rain Man, and appearing a few moments later, The Newcomer. 

The two big stallions were more or less always sparring. When Rain Man spun around to use body weight against Storm, it became evident that the three bachelors had company...the dark mare with the grulla foal that had previously been with Petrichor. And unlikely as it was, the smaller, younger stallion was the one by her side.

None of which made any sense. The girls watched, speechless, as the horses milled about, moving ever closer.

"We're a little close for comfort" Grace whispered.  

After a few uneasy moments out in the open, and quite close to the stallions, the girls pulled back, retreating the way they came.

"That's the mare and foal that turned up with Petrichor, right?" Skye asked. "She came along right after the black mare, Thorn."

"Yes." 

Skye was expecting more than a one word response.

"Grace are you okay?"

"I'm slightly dizzy."

"Like fainting dizzy?"

"No, I'm not going to faint. Or fall. I'm good, everything's good."

"Well" Skye continued, "I totally have no clue what we just witnessed."

"Me neither."

Back in the warmth of home, the girls tried to make sense of the scene that had unfolded in front of them.

"What color do you think that mare is?" Skye pondered.

"I'm not sure. She's so dark. But not jet black. She could be a grulla, a super dark grulla...but grulla is kind of like roan, it's a mix of light and dark hair. She looks almost blue. Like maybe she's a dark blue roan. But again, where's the white hair?"

"Do you think she's related to the dun stallion?" Skye asked, and then, "No, wait. I have a hypothesis."

"Let's hear it."

"She's not related to any of them and neither is her foal so she has to protect it, you know, in case a stallion comes after it because it's not his foal. So she's hanging close to the young stallion because he's probably less of a threat than the bigger, older ones."

Grace thought about it for a few moments before she answered.

"Skye that is as good of an explanation for what we witnessed as any I could think of. I'm baffled about the whole thing. Where are these dark horses coming from...and where are all the horses we're familiar with? Where's Petrichor?"

March 10
Frost colored the landscape white, giving in to green with the sun's first rays. Somewhere on the slopes above, a deer sounded with a warning snort, then vanished into the chaparral.

The grass was thick, the ground saturated, rivulets of water were everywhere.
The sound of moving water softened the beat of soggy hooves, both wild and domestic

They saw the foals first.


The wild herd was relaxed. For the first time in memory, Crazy looked unruffled, and unaware of their presence.

The mare they called Lady Godiva was playing with the foals. 

Grace motioned soundlessly to Skye. The girls turned north, away from Crazy's band, leaving them in peace.

They searched the winter landscape for signs of Petrichor's band.

They rode past the draw where once Petrichor had left his herd to come and greet Grace. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

They headed back through the boulder-strewn landscape where the wild horses often came in the summer months, perhaps to enjoy the shade of the canyons, perhaps to catch insect-relieving breezes, or perhaps for some reason the girls might never know. But the land was bare of wild horses.

Back at home, a box awaited them on the table.

"What do you think it is?" Skye asked.
"I don't know" Grace responded, "but it's the same box your Christmas present came in. We definitely know how to recycle around here."

"So you don't have any idea what it is?"

"Nope. But it seems like most of these packages are for you. So go ahead and open it."

Skye made short work of revealing the contents.
"Oh yeah. It's for me."

"You were never good as a liar. Let me see what's in there."

 In the box were pewter horses.  Volo and Pimento, a mustang mare and foal sculpted by Maggie Bennett.  Skye was particularly enamored with the foal.  Skye was silent for a long time before she finally spoke. 

"Wow."

Grace nodded, silent. Wow, indeed.
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February 2, 2024
Grace and Skye came back up the mountain, a river of clouds coming with them.
They'd been gifted a truckload of equipment. Literally. Judging by the clouds, they might be needing some of it sooner than later.

The clouds were moving swiftly, rolling, peaking, tumbling, making mountain shapes, river shapes, flowing fast across the sky. The wind was strong and the air was cold.

Grace took a moment to absorb it. Before whatever it had in store came to earth. 

"It's beautiful" Skye said. "And a little crazy. I bet we lose the internet."

"I wouldn't be surprised" Grace said, frigid fingers fumbling with the door. "Dang it's cold."

February 6
After 48 hours of rain, on the morning of the sixth, it finally snowed. 

It was a wet snow, too wet for taking out horses, and so instead, Skye finished her NaMoPaiMo horse from 2023, a bay brabant Deborah McDermott resin. She was particularly pleased with his eyes.

Grace worked on and off on her NaMo horse. The technique she was trying was...different.  She was attempting a mulberry grey for the first time, using colorful undertones of yellow and magenta.

"He looks like a decorator right now" Skye said.

"Right? We could have left the horn on and painted it gold."

The barn cats had come in...all four of them.   You could always tell when it was properly cold out.  Mousing was put on hold for a while in favor of lounging on Skye's bed.

Skye's wall hanging was also coming along.  It looked almost identical to its original version;  a very dark bay American Saddlebred.

"I think I'm almost done" Skye said. I ended up working light over dark again! I'm going to touch up the darks and the mane and tail and do the details and call it done."

"No white markings?"

Skye shook her head.  "I'm not that good at white markings."

"Okay."

For a while in the afternoon, the sun burned through the clouds and the snow quickly slipped from the tree branches to the ground. But then it began to fall again, soft, silent, steady.

February 7
There had been some snow overnight.  A mixture of powder, and wet snow that had frozen.  The big red truck would need digging out.  

"Whoa! Come back broom!"
Skye fell through a layer of crust, onto softer snow beneath.

"Guess Michelle Sepiol sent us shovels and brooms just in time" Skye said, pulling snow down from the hood of the truck.

There was a lot of snow.  The part that had become crust made the task of getting the truck uncovered without scratching it rather tricky.

"Let's take a break" Grace said. "Give it a couple hours. Let the sun melt some of this."

Grace started heading back to the house. Skye took few more swipes at the snow. It was heavy, but the layer that had hardened was thin, and if she hooked it just right she could pull whole sheets of snow off of the truck.

The girls returned late in the afternoon, as the cloud cover increased. The truck was mostly exposed. They cut away a little more snow in front of it, and gave it a go.  But the ice won.

"Now what?" Skye said.

"I think we'll be better off in the water."

"Man, look at all this grass. And it's only February."

"Yeah...no one is going hungry this spring" Grace replied.

And just as well that they'd gotten he truck loose, because as evening came, so did another storm.

February 8
A thick layer of fresh snow covered the landscape. Highlander's small band had become separated from Petrichor's herd, and they headed toward familiar territory, where the grazing would be lush.

The small streams were iced over. The snow was deep and difficult to navigate. The dun mare clambered up the snowy bank, away from the ice, but only momentarily.  The deep snow was challenging in its own right.

Where drifts of snow had covered the frozen stream, the going was easiest.  The dun mare looked for those easy passages.

The larger streams bore no ice. The water was cold and occasionally deep, but it would eventually lead them down into the relative shelter of a grass meadow.

Back at the ranch, Grace and Skye took a moment to get pictures of Skye's completed horses. She had started them for NaMoPaiMo in 2023. And now, finally, a year later and just eight days into February, they were done. 

Grace decided to take La Barilla to the indoor arena. Skye accompanied her. Ladyhawk's blanket made all kinds of swooshing noises as they road, but Ladyhawk kept her head. La Barilla stopped here and there to paw the snow, as if perhaps it would be enjoyable to roll in.

"Where do you suppose the wild horses are?" Skye asked.
"Hard to say" Grace responded. There was so much rain, and I think it rained harder in the lowlands than it did here. But then the snow came. So which way would they have gone? Up for the rain, down for the snow?"

Crazy's band made their way along a seasonal stream, northwest of the sheltered meadow. 

The mare Grace and Skye called Lady Godiva picked her way through the water, which was sometimes deep. The mud made from rich soil acted like suction cups around the horse's hooves, but there were also narrow sand bars which provided better crossing.

Following her lead, the herd traversed the sand bar, single file.  It was a quiet time in the forest.  The roads were likely closed.  The wet snow was not ideal for traveling, but they did so entirely unbothered.

February 16
Grace's current NaMoPaiMo horse was challenging her a little bit.  The girls examined it in the tack room.  It didn't look like a yellow and purple decorator model any more, but it wasn't exactly going along to plan, either.

"So now his two sides aren't even" Grace said of her NaMoPaiMo horse. "I'm not sure how they came out so different, but I think I like the lighter side better. So...now what."

"You could put the disappearing dapples back on the dark shoulder..."  Skye suggested.  "Or maybe when you finish the mane and tail...it will just all come together..."  It was always difficult when something went too dark.  There wasn't always a way to fix it.

Anahit and Lousin came in quietly, their mom in tow...welcome but wholly unexpected.

"This is our mom" Anahit said.
"Hi mom!" Skye replied.

"Hello, I hope we aren't...oh my goodness, what is this?"

"It's a horse Grace is painting" Skye volunteered.

"It's beautiful! I did not know you are an artist!"

Grace took a deep breath and got ready to say something along the lines of not really considering herself an artist. Skye jumped her lines.

"He's almost done. I think he's going to be amazing."

"I think you are right!"

February 18
The boss, Grace, Skye, Anahit, Lousin and mom gathered at one of the outdoor arenas on Redbird Ranch.  Clouds poured across the sky. The boss seemed almost apologetic about the new horses.   They were big, one a predominately white pinto, one a more color-balanced pinto, both lovely.

"Grace, is he a medicine hat?" Skye asked of the white one.
"Uh, yeah, he's very minimal but I think he's got color in all the right places."

There was a lot to take in. Sights, sounds, smells...the big white horse seemed to be absorbed with processing his whereabouts.  He was friendly enough...just in sensory overload. Grace wondered if the dampness of everything accentuated what he could smell. 

The second giant hay burner had a different approach to gathering information. He was more active, engaging with everyone and everything in his new surroundings. He had a big, loose stride and a kind face. 

Skye liked both of them. The sun broke through the gathering mass of clouds, illuminating the drafters with a sort of magical glow.

While the new horses had everyone's attention, Skye noticed the boss going in a different direction. She followed quietly as the boss circled back toward the turn out pen with a third equine. He wasn't flashy like the drafters. But he was a drafter too. He seemed to be taking in his new surroundings by...meditating.

"I can't explain it Skye" the boss said quietly, "but I am just in love with this guy. Like we needed another mule, right?"

Skye wasn't quite sure how to respond. 

"He's super chill" the boss continued. "You can pet him. Heck, you can probably ride him without a bridle. He's comfortable here. You can see it in his eyes."
His color was intriguing.  He had some characteristics of a mouse dun mixed with wild white markings and belgian shades of chestnut. And the calmest demeanor, and sleepy eyes. 

And then the cloud layer thickened, the sun retreated to the west, and the rain came.  Everyone retreated to their respective shelters.

Grace looked at her NaMoPaiMo horse, the paint still wet on his mane and tail.
"I really wanted to finish him tonight, but I'm making a mess" she said. "My hands just don't have it tonight."

"You've got like ten days to get it done" Skye reminded her. "You've got this."

Skye turned her attention to the english saddle that was sharing their space.

"What's the plan for this?"

"Did you see the girls' mom eyeing it when she was in the tack room?"

"Oh yeah, huh. I forgot about that."

"The last time...the only time we've used it is to school La Barilla on the long rein. The stirrups are still run up, and I swapped out the girth for one off of a bareback pad. It needs a new girth. And I don't think we have one that will work."

"And obviously mom doesn't ride western." 

"I'd say not by choice. People who ride english can usually ride western just fine. I just thought, you know, it would be nice to have a saddle ready."

"Totally."

February 25
Grace finished her NAMoPaiMo entry, a mulberry grey Andalusian that looked actually quite a lot like her reference horse. Skye hung one of her sheets on the wall behind the table, and fumbled with an LED fill light to get light in the horse's eyes for his "I Did It" picture. 

"Do I really need to be in the photo Skye?"  Grace still wasn't brimming with confidence on this latest piece.

"Yes please."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Look at me and smile."

"I can't. That light is so bright I can't even see you."

"Oh, oops...umm okay, then look at your horse."

February 26
Monday morning dawned cloudy and grey, but there was no wind, so the girls set out for a ride. A red tailed hawk circled them as the left the ranch proper.  Skye rode the new mule, which for now they had nicknamed Tex, and Grace rode La Barilla.  They were a bit of an odd couple as mounts go.

Grace was unusually quiet.

"Are you okay?" Skye asked.

"Yeah...I'm all right. I'm kind of tired. Like by the time I was done saddling him I was tired. We should trade mounts."

"Are you serious?"

Grace thought the idea through. Probably everything would be fine. But she was the only one who had ever ridden La Barilla...unless Skye had ridden him before, and if she had, Grace couldn't remember...maybe on the trail wasn't the right place for their first ride together.

"Sure" Grace finally responded. "Soon as we get back to the ranch."

It was quiet. Save for the hawk and the occasional songbird, nothing stirred. The air was damp and Grace felt a bit chilled.

"You know who I'd really love to ride?" Skye said. "That appaloosa mare. The fast one."

"Firebird."

"Yes!"

"I'm sure that would be fine. But can we do it another day? I'm pretty certain it's going to be raining soon."

In the turn-out arena, Grace held La Barilla steady while Skye got settled.

The saddle seat was a little big for Skye. Beneath her, La Barilla was active. Somewhat collected, slightly hesitant, forever a lot of horse. Skye wanted to shift her butt in the saddle, but she didn't want to set him off. His ears were flicking back and forth, waiting for a cue, any cue. Grace started to suggest Skye lower her hands, but she stopped.

In a few moments, Skye dropped her hands, and somehow found her place in the saddle.  Grace moved back, ever watchful, and let the two become acquainted, 

Skye was beaming. She was doing it. She was riding La Barilla.  The certainty of more rain kept the ride brief, but it was a good ride nonetheless.

At home, Skye was energetic and chatty.

"Do you think the boss would help us get some pictures of our models?  I think we should enter them in a photo show or two.  Are you going to sell yours?"

"Maybe? I mean sooner or later there's going to be too many horses in here, and something's bound to get knocked over."

"I'll make room in my studio! We can keep some of them there. And then rotate them!"

"Okay" Grace said, without a scrap of enthusiasm.

"You should rest" Skye continued. "It's gonna rain anyway. You can tell me you're okay, but your giant heart dog doesn't lie. You aren't feeling good."

And sure enough, Baron was right next to Grace.

And so began the rain.
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​January 15, 2024
"We should move just a little closer" Skye said. "We really can't see much from here."

They waited, and waited...and then all at once it began. The branches had been limbed from the downed trees and put into piles, and troughs dug around the piles. Hose line ran throughout the area. The ground around the piles had been moistened. There was surprisingly little sound.

After a few minutes, the flames licked skyward, heat signature bending light.

And then, in not so long, the visually impressive part was pretty much over. The tree limbs they'd gazed upon daily were converted energetically into ash that would fertilize the soil.

January 20
"So why are we heading to the arena?" Skye questioned.
"Take a guess."
"New horses."
"Good guess."

There was just one new horse. She was pretty.

"Ohh...what's her name?" Skye asked the boss.
"I don't know. She might need a new name. But she's not a rescue."
Skye laughed. "What's her story?"
"If I have it right, she was a halter horse in her youth, and she's done some performance, but in the past couple years her owners really haven't done much of anything with her. I guess you could say we rescued her from boredom."

There was a long silence. Skye seemed content to watch the mare move about. Finally the boss spoke up. 
"You can ride her if you want Skye."
"Do you think I can ride her in a bosal?"
"I'm guessing you can. And if not you'll know pretty quick."
Skye was off to find a suitable headstall. The boss turned to Grace.

"I think I told you I was looking at some horses for Skye."
"Yes" Grace responded.
"This is one of them. Actually, this is the only one. Twitch sold, and there's another mare that sort of reminds me of her but I'm just not in love with her, and then there was a mustang. But the mustang...she wasn't interested in engaging. You could just feel it. Or maybe we just didn't bond. I don't know. I hope Skye likes this mare."
"She's got a kind eye and a beautiful head" Grace said. "Let's give them some time to get to know each other."

Skye returned with a bosal. The mare was calm and responsive. She was smooth, and easy to sit.

"I'll be back down in a little bit" the boss said. Grace nodded, absorbed in watching Skye and the black mare. They looked very relaxed together.

Time would tell.

​January 24
Grace and Skye hadn't really given NaMoPaiMo a lot of thought this year. Until now.

"Okay," Skye said, "I think we're setting ourselves up for possible failure here. It's not just that your drafter is completely unprepped or anything, it also needs a mane and a tail. Have you ever prepped a 3D printed resin before?"

"No" Grace admitted. "And the printing process does have a unique texture. But it's a really smooth print, and it's a solid print, so, hopefully it's durable."

"Mine...if NaMo is returning to its original format, mine don't count anyway. The Saddlebred isn't a three dimensional horse and finishing your NaMo horse from last year doesn't count. We're not going to get a bunch of likes this year. You might, but I won't."

"Funny you should say that" Grace said. "About the likes. I watched a program last night on the creation of Facebook's like button and how it literally changed the world."

Skye was silent. Grace continued.

"At first it was an amazing and wonderful communication tool. It allowed people to show support for each other. It increased communication and interaction acrooss the Facebook community. But it also quickly became a marketing tool. A way to focus news and target products at you. A way to use what you liked to dictate what you experienced. But then worse...it also became a self worth epidemic. People go out of their way to create content to get likes, to validate themselves. And it's addictive. At first five likes is very gratifying. But then you want one hundred likes. You develop this insatiable appetite for recognition and if you don't get it, you suffer because you are a failure. Unpopular. Not as good as everyone else. For young people, it's devastating. It's dangerous. Between that and bullying, kids have committed suicide."

Skye was still silent.

"We all want the likes. We all want to be influencers. That's natural. But when we start linking our self worth to the fickle whims of the browsing public and the bored pandas, that's dangerous. Do you want to find a different NaMoPaiMo project?"

There was another quiet pause.

"No. I want to finish these. The Saddlebred was gorgeous, remember? Just...not primed right. This time I won't try going dark to light. I'll just do it...normal."

"What about the big guy? He's really nice Skye. I think you can do it. I think you can finish him.""

"I'll try."

"Good enough."

January 29
First light in Chilao. Dawn was anything but silent. Firefighter crews were already at work somewhere in the campground, making ready for the camping season, making ready for the fire season. 

The new black mare seemed engaged and unruffled. 
"What does her face say?" Skye asked.

"She's taking everything in with interest. Like she's reading a great novel but with her whole body. I think she's happy."

The morning was lovely. Warm for January. The predicted winds had gone somewhere else to blow. Birds were stirring. The girls rode on a westerly course, into the rugged terrain where often they found Petrichor, Highlander and the other stallions and their bands. Today there were no wild horses.


They took their first glimpse at the picture rocks without the old coulter pines shadowing them. There was another tree that would soon need felling. There were pockets of tree die-off here and there, despite a very wet year. Beetles caused some of it, but sometimes it was a mystery.

"You know, today we understand that trees and plants are connected to each other below the soil, and share nutrients and information" Skye said. "So maybe this tree was dependent on the other trees and now that they're gone, it can't survive."

"Maybe" Grace said. "But using that same body of research, those trees that were dying would at some point have given their last energy to their surrounding offspring."

The answer wasn't obvious. Sometimes trees died suddenly, and it was hard to understand why.

The girls meandered back toward the ranch. 
"We haven't been on a long ride in a while" Skye said. 
"Let's plan one" Grace replied.

The boss had brought some things to show Skye down to the indoor arena. So the girls brought Skye's herd there to turn them out. 

"I made them" the boss responded. "A long time ago. Nineteen or twenty years ago. I wrote a novel called The Wisdom Walkers. It was about how these two women traveled across the world to meet each other. A long time ago. 74,000 years ago. So to help work out the details of how they would have done that, we did some miniature journeys. Mikki and I."

"Mikki? Our MIkki?"

"Yes. One of the main characters in the book is based on her, really. So we took herds of horses and a pack train through Vasquez rocks. I made these saddles, out of clay, because I didn't know anything about sculpting apoxie and I don't know how to work with wood."

"Me neither!" Skye chimed in. "I tried and...it's hard! I gave up! But wait. If it was 74,000 years ago, why were they riding horses? Horses weren't domesticated yet. Were they even tall enough to ride?"

The boss laughed. "Not really tall enough for Mikki. She's so tall, all legs. But the basis of the story is that we humans were a lot more advanced in some ways than anyone recalls or understands, but the eruption of the Toba volcano wiped out most of us, and our societies. It's thought that after the Toba volcano erupted humans could easily have gone extinct. Our numbers were in the thousands after that. And of course that kind of loss means the loss of knowledge."

"So in the story, Mikki's people were already here in the Americas and had been for who knows how long. Mikki loved that. If I can find the pictures we did...they were done with a film camera, so somewhere I have actual printed pictures...if I can find them I'll show them to you."

Skye examined the interior of one of the saddles. It had cracked and taken the leather with it. The boss went on talking, animated by the memories the saddles brought to her.
"They saddles are heavy and not shaped right. They aren't worth anything, and I'm not going to keep them. If you want the beadwork and feathers off of that saddle, I'll cut them off for you."

Skye looked at Grace. Grace nodded. "Take them."

"Don't worry" the boss continued. "Grace told me how you feel about saddles in general, I'm not trying to pawn these off on you. But you can have the beadwork if you want it. The thought was that 74,000 years ago we might not have had the technology to make seed beads from glass yet, but we could probably have made crow and pony beads."

Outside the forest hummed with human activity. A prescribed burn at the base of the Vetter Fire Lookout was going well, the weather perfect, the wind cooperating.

When Skye looked closely, she could make out firefighters all along the ridge line, monitoring the burn.

And line workers flew through the air, dangling from helicopters.

"Could you do that?" Grace asked Skye. 

"Oh man! That would be totally exciting!" 

"It pays really well too. Edison puts people through line worker's school. They have tuition grants and special programs to train people to do line work. I don't know if 'line work' is the right name for the job..."

"Aerial Technician."

Grace laughed. "Yes. Of course. Aerial technician. What was I thinking."
                                                                                                                                        #

January 7
It was forty degrees in the arena. The girls had an unexpected audience - Anahit and Lousin. The boss beamed when she saw the first horse that the girls had chosen to bring in. Skye gave the opening keynote speech.  Shades of Jolie, a registered buckskin shire mare.

"Good morning, Happy New Year and welcome to our review, which I like to refer to as 'The Art of Grace.' We're here to take a look at where we've been, where we are now, and perhaps even touch upon where we are going. When Grace first came to Redbird Ranch there was some focus on getting horses trained, conditioned and in the show ring." Skye paused. What truthfully came next was the realization that Grace had no real interest in the show ring, on any level, but she was very good at handling horses. And for the bosses' part, she would rather buy horses than spend money on show quality tack. Maybe too many horses. 

The boss crinkled her face, still smiling.  That bit about too many horses.  Probably true.

"As we began to work as a team, Grace's strength as a trainer and handler become increasingly evident, and our focus began to shift toward the development of each individual horse, and a sense of what Redbird Ranch would come to be all about. Wisely, wonderfully, and through thoughtful leadership, we have come to focus on the preservation of some of the equine world's rare and genetically endangered breeds, and no horse could express that more beautifully than Shades of Jolie, who also happens to be doing well in the show ring in breed halter."

Grace spoke on behalf of Firebird, the appaloosa mare, who was quite eager to stretch her legs. 

"You might think this is an unusual choice of horses for us to present since we haven't spent a great deal of time finding her performance niche, but we give you Firebird because we think she exemplifies an excellent appaloosa sport horse. We're excited about moving forward with horses of this calibre. I should also mention that she did recently place at the top of her class in halter."

The boss seemed quite pleased so far. 

There was a moment of frigid silence while Skye dragged the very heavy ground poles into the arena and Grace fetched the next horse, Ono, the paint stallion.

Grace spoke on behalf of Ono.
"We present Ono because of his stellar progress. He arrived green-broke, and with a bit of an attitude."

"This was not the easiest stallion to bring around. But he has come around. He is and is becoming a wonderful all-purpose western horse, and he has a good head on his shoulders once he decides to give it to you." 

Grace decided to speak for Jesse too.  The fiery little palomino tore across the arena.

"Jesse will always be one of my favorite horses. He is all heart and courage. He was one of the first green horses that I worked with and he remains one of my favorites."

​Jesse had been a gift to the boss form a very special friend, Richard Rodman, days after her dear friend Jesse Gutierrez passed away suddenly.   So the boss shared Grace's fondness for his heart and his fire. 

"He is versatile, sure footed, willing and honest. I love this little horse, and I think he is a great ambassador for the American wild horse, whether from Mexico or the United States, and he has shown successfully in a number of disciplines." 

Grace was on a role, and spoke for the Lipizzan mare, whose name escaped her at the moment.

"We present to you this lovely mare as both a nod to your taste in horses, and to the good work we have been able to do with her leg injury. She has made a complete recovery, and is sound for work under saddle, or breeding, or both." 

The boss lit up with a wide smile to see Skye riding Loch'sha with only a neck rope. Loch'sha was hands down one of her favorite mares of all time. Once again Grace spoke.

"If horses are going to remain in our lives as we race ahead in the twenty first century, we'll need more horses like this, horses for ordinary people; sensible, sure-footed, versatile, great companions and stellar mounts. Loch'sha has had some performance placings, but we feel her highest and best value is as a real horse...one that can work cattle, navigate trails...or pull a broken Jeep back to the ranch..."

Skye finally got a chance to speak when Grace returned to the arena with the big, pearly Akhal Teke  stallion, Gunner.

"We present to you Gunner, another one of Grace's beloved sort of golden stallions. He's a stellar example of his breed and a testament to the stamina and strength of the Akhal Teke. His fiery personality makes him a ride for the experienced, but his willingness to bond to and work with his handler, also a hallmark of the breed, is what allows Grace to do this..."

"...Liberty longing. As we move toward the goal of preserving the best bloodlines of genetically threatened breeds, Gunner is a great example of accomplishing those goals."

Skye continued as Grace rode the next stallion.
"Relampago en la Pampa. This green broke stallion was one of the first horses Grace rode when she arrived, bareback, just as she rides him now with a rope halter! This Mangalarga Marchador stallion is another great example of preserving the best of a genetic legacy. And of course, Grace likes to show off that she really CAN ride bareback."

Skye was silent as Grace rode in on La Barilla, letting his action speak for itself. There was something leather across the saddle horn...some Spanish regalia? Skye had never seen anything like it before.

Grace and La Barilla executed the side pass. Skye began her narrative.

"No review would be complete without this golden stallion, La Barilla. He is believed to be one of the last if not the last horse from the central valley of California, descended from a wild herd of pure Spanish palomino and buckskin horses, last noted in the wild around 1920. His heritage then would likely be Lusitano, but as you can see, he retains some little bit of wild...a wild that Grace has brought under saddle with poise and elegance."

And then Grace started moving around in the saddle. Skye had no idea what Grace was doing. She fell silent.

The purpose of the leather became clear. But it was too short. Genius, but too short. It should have been long enough for Grace to brace her knees and maybe even her thighs against the pommel of the saddle. Skye held her breath as Grace pulled her feet into the slits in the leather, and then, with some effort, pulled herself up onto her feet.

La Barilla's ears flicked and swiveled. He took very measured steps. As if he was trying to balance Grace. Grace struggled to keep her balance without pulling on the reins. A rope tied to the horn that she could balance with...that would have been a great idea.

And then for a moment, they got it. Grace stood, knees slightly bent, and turned La Barilla slowly in a circle.  One hand on the reins.  One hand free.

And a moment was enough. The stirrup slits were tight. Grace struggled to free her boots, opting to dismount as soon as she had gotten the left boot free.

After a tense moment, the applause. There may only have been four spectators, but the cheering and clapping was thunderous.

"Believe it or not" Skye said to Anahit and Lousin, "that was not the finale', even if it should have been. There is one more act, and it's mine."

Skye disappeared for a moment. She returned with...not a horse.

The bosses' eyes grew wide. 

"May I present to you Toro Toro Taxi. Now what in the world do we have to do with this? Nothing really. Your interest in rangeland management, in alternative methods to the beef industry, to humanity and to the future of the planet...that is what this Raramuri Criollo bull and his offspring represent."

"And he is beautiful, and we love him, now that I am not scared to death of him any more. Now that I have learned that the Raramuri are not only better suited for the land, but also raised to be companions. by the people who share their traditional name."

"Your efforts to encourage the cattle industry to adopt a more sustainable animal, better adapted to the environment, and producing a more tender and higher quality of meat, is very admirable. But I implore upon you to consider an even greater environmental step. Bring back the buffalo."

"Not beefalo. Not buffacows. Buffalo. Buffalo once roamed every part of this land. They were an integral part of the environment. Their slaughter was the beginning of the demise not only of native people, but of the land itself. The health of the land depended on its herbivores, perfectly adapted to the harshness of this beautiful country. Restoring that balance and preserving the genetic diversity of the buffalo is critical. Bringing back the buffalo would heal the land. Respecting the buffalo, honoring the buffalo...that would be healing on so many levels. Don't get me wrong. We love this guy. We don't want to eat him! Please keep him! We love your commitment to doing what's good and what's right. Consider this. Bring back the buffalo."

​Skye paused.

"So, in the immortal words of Shirley Temple...'And that is it, and that is all. Thank you for the use of the hall."

                                                                                                                #

January 1, 2024
Dawn came with a chilling wind that Grace would not normally have opted to ride in. But according to the ranch horses, there were wild horses in close proximity, so the girls ventured out. Saturday's rain was frozen into the soil, making the ground hard and the going slow.

The mosses and lichens glowed green, invigorated by moisture, carpeting the rocky terrain. 

Somewhere in that rocky terrain, there were wild horses. But where.

Petrichor's harem, six strong, took shelter from the wind in a narrow draw, concealed from view by the rock walls.

"Can you hear anything?" Skye said softly.

Grace listened. Watched her mount's ears. Peered hopefully ahead. Nothing.

Highlander and his band saw the girls coming. They slipped through the rugged rock passage, and away.

The girls wanted to keep looking, but the wind pushed back on them.  Eventually, they turned back.

At home, Grace and Skye watched the Rose Parade on the laptop.
"Wouldn't it be so much fun to ride in the Rose Parade?" 
Grace considered it. 
"It would be, but it would be an awful lot of work too. I mean, for us, pretty easy really...we're about as close as you could hope to be."

January 6
The girls had been down the mountain all morning with the boss. Skye noticed the black capped bird first. 

Then they both noticed the tree.

The wind was cold. They knew the tree was coming down. There was a great deal of work going on in Chilao to make the inhabited areas safe from wind, fire and heavy snow. Still. The skyline would never be the same.

"I wish we could have seen them fell it" Skye said. Grace thought about it. "Yeah, me too, but maybe it's better we didn't."

In the late afternoon, everything went still. The wind stopped. Clouds covered the sky and the humidity rose. Beset with a little touch of melancholy, the girls decided to tend to their feelings with a ride. Woodpeckers, scrub jays, western bluebirds and various insect hunting birds were all that stirred. The band tailed pigeons had finally gone back to the Visitors' Center on the other side of Chilao, where the staff kept them in an ample supply of seed. 

La Barilla did an unexpected about-face.

Petrichor's bay mare and her foals moved into the clearing. The mare hesitated for a moment, then continued on, slowly, watching the girls, but unafraid.

Grace strained to get a glimpse beyond the black mare i Petrichor's band, Thorn, as La Barilla became increasingly difficult to hold steady. There were two more dark horses that they had never seen before.

The bay mare's foals noticed the Vanner filly.

The Vanner filly was equally curious. The foals began moving toward each other.

"Oh, this could be interesting" Skye chirped, "and I'm along for the ride..."

And then Petrichor swept in, putting himself between his band and the Vanner filly.

His herd, swollen now to three mares and three foals, took heed, turning away from Grace and Skye and moving back toward the cover of the chaparral.

The Vanner filly returned to her nickering mother, looking rather pleased with herself. Petrichor and his band slipped out of sight.

Back at home, it took a little bit for the girls to get warm.
"I don't want to take my coat off" Grace said as she scanned her emails.

"Yeah but that was worth getting cold and stiff! That's the closest we've ever been to the foals I think! And the new mare and foal! And you can tell it's cold out when the barn cats would rather stay in a room full of dogs than in their own beds."

Grace was silent, staring at the computer screen. 
"What's wrong?" Skye asked.
"I'll read it to you" Grace responded. "It's an email from the boss. 'Hey Grace, tomorrow is supposed to be barely above freezing and windy. Remember that review I was hoping to do in the fall? Let's do it tomorrow.' "
It was Skye's turn to fall silent.
"Tomorrow." Skye finally said. "We don't even have a day to plan. I had so many ideas. I wanted to make it like a show you know, and I wanted to speak for you, because that would be the traditional way to do it...you know, not you bragging on yourself but me speaking on your behalf...and I wanted to show pictures..."
There was a long silence.
"We've got all night" Grace finally said. "We'll pull it together."

Grace and Skye caught the last moments of the sunset. Clouds swirled and danced and made their way up the mountain. The cold crept quickly into their hands. 
"Do you know which horses you want?" Skye asked.
"Pretty much. It'll be about half-half mares and stallions."
"So how do we split the talking?"
Grace thought about it for a moment. She started to answer and stopped. Finally she spoke.

"We could spend a lot of time trying to figure that out and have it all change the moment we get in the arena. Let's just both decide what we generally want to say."
"I like that. We'll keep it fresh."
"Organic" Grace smiled.
"Real." Skye replied, smiling. "I like that."

                                                                                                                     #

December 3, 2023
Chilao, Angeles National Forest

Just before dawn, the weather shifted. Warm air replaced the cold, invisibly, silently. The dark mare stood in the clearing, listening, smelling, sensing, feeling. There were other horses, somewhere. She wasn't sure exactly where. Her filly was hungry, and not yet weaned.  It seemed safe enough. She let the filly suckle. 

A few hours later, Skye struggled with the side door of the horse trailer, and finally won.  The mare inside was beautiful. And big. She took up the entire space.

The mare came out of the trailer smooth and easy, swishing her tail out of the way of her hooves, her attention focused on the other passenger in the trailer.

The other passenger took a little gentle coaxing to get the idea of backing out, but soon enough she did. 

Grace and Skye took a moment to study them.  They were beautiful Vanners, the mare a bay tobiano, the foal a delightful palomino pinto pattern. A sudden wind storm caught the girls off guard, bringing them out of their reverie with the new mare and foal and promptly into a moment of decision. The wind was deliciously warm, yes, but gusting, wild and unpredictable.

"Let's take then to the arena" Grace said. 

"This place is wild, isn't it?" Skye replied. "One minute it's calm and dreamy, the next you're running for cover...I love it here."

Grace laughed. "It's a good thing, because otherwise you'd hate it here."

"Right?"

In the indoor arena they were joined by Lousin, Anahit and the boss, along with Tosh and Contessa.

Grace did a quick double-take when she saw Skye riding the new mare. Where did she even find a place to launch herself up on that substantial mare?

Skye was excited to see Anahit and Lousin.

"Are you coming to the Christmas party?" Skye asked.
"When is it?" Anahit responded.

"December 17."

"We'd love to. Will it be like last year?"

Skye looked to the boss. The boss nodded.

"Yes, pretty much just like last year. Just maybe with more dogs and horses!"

As quickly as the wind storm came, it went, an audible voice moving through the pines, away, away into another canyon, another place, and the girls brought the lovely mare and foal back outside to enjoy the sunshine.

December 10
Autumn's end came, dry and windblown.  The air was calm in the early hours, but about the time Grace and Skye departed for a Sunday morning ride, the wind returned.

They hugged the rock outcropping's sheltered side, the way the wild horses often did, but the wind found them there too.  So they headed back. The wind advisory would end at noon. Perhaps later on conditions would improve.

"What horses are you going to bring down for the Christmas party?"  Skye asked.

"I don't know yet" Grace mused.

"Me neither" Skye responded.

It was time to get ready for the Christmas party.  They fought their way across the arena in the big red Pavement Queen. It seemed like all that tread and all those tires should have fared better in the sand.  Just aobut two thirds of the way across, they lost the battle with the sand.

"Well, we almost made it." Skye said. "I'll get a shovel."

"Let's just unload here" Grace said. "It's not too far. We ought to be able to sort of shimmy the tree into position."

Grace lifted the tree so that Skye could get the table out. 

​"Am I stuck on the tailgate?" Skye asked. 

"Nope, left me lift the tree a little higher."

Grace lifted. Skye tugged.  And then everything moved quite suddenly.
Both girls ended up in the sand.

"Are you okay?" Grace asked.

"I'm okay. Are you okay?"

"I'm okay. Dang it. Now we've got a tree and a truck stuck."

"What would happen if you just drove forward real fast?"

Grace laughed. "We'll try that next if a little more shoving doesn't work."

Skye keyed into the bosses voice when they went back outside.

"In Arizona, where they come from, these trees are medicine to indigenous people" Skye heard the boss explaining to someone whom she did not recognize.
"Here, they aren't that great. They swell with water in the winter months. If there is a good freeze, they can explode. They grow top-heavy, and not sorted out in a way that the wind can blow through them. So in heavy winds they snap. We were without power for sixteen months when one of them took out a power pole a few years back."

Skye looked at Grace, questioning. Grace nodded. The boss went on. "They are prolific seeders too, as evidenced by all these young saplings everywhere. But probably the biggest thing is, they burn readily, and they burn hot. And once they ignite, all the trees around then ignite. And yet, they are medicine."

The girls moved along.

"Are those trees going to get taken out?" Skye asked quietly.

"I think so. I mean, I don't know when or how but I know the boss is hoping to get them gone."

Skye frowned.

"I know" Grace said. 'It's complicated."

Bringing in the calves was a bit less complicated. When they chose to cooperate.

Grace noted a bobcat track, made during the last rain, several weeks ago now.

Skye watched Grace and La Barilla. He was no cow pony. Not yet anyway. But he did seem to be getting the idea that the calves would yield to him, and that this was desirable.

The calves would be an easy mark for a mountain lion, or even a bear, so they had to be brought in before dark.  After a rather chaotic gathering together, the calves acquiesced, and headed back to the ranch in an orderly fashion. 

"Look at that!" Skye laughed. "Like we know what we're doing!"

Coyote sounded off as they departed. Skye spun Ladyhawk around, searching the landscape, following the calls. Coyote stayed just out of sight, vocalizing from behind the dense chaparral cover, close, but invisible. She so wanted to catch a glimpse of the coyote.  But it was not to be.

December 11
The following dayt was time to get the arena back in order.

"This sand is so deep" Grace said. "Maybe too deep."

"I think so too!" Skye said. "Until I fall. Then I'm like 'oh thank goodness this sand is so deep.'"

"True that" Grace replied.

With a small rake and a shovel, they evened the sand and tried to ameliorate the deep tracks that the tires had made.

"This is going to take forever" Grace said.

"I have an idea." Skye replied. "Let's get some help. Let's turn out some horses."

"Great idea."

Skye brought out her beloved horses.  And the new donkey, that the boss named "Honkey."  

"So you know there's just one problem with this idea" Grace said.

"What?"

"We should maybe have chosen more active horses. This is still going to take all day."

December 17.
The day of the Christmas party had arrived, and it was a beautiful day. 

Skye loved the red dawn effect, and the alpine glow at sunset. Everything was ready. The boss was putting the finishing touches on the food and people were already showing up, well before 11 AM.

And horse people too! But no trailers full of horses. It had been a whole year since Redbird Ranch had hosted a gathering, and everyone - even the boss - seemed perfectly content to see old friends, socialize and eat.   Once again, the girls had the arena to themselves.

Anahit and Lousin wandered through the art garden.  A last-moment idea, Skye chose to arrange art pieces by Katy NIles along the wall by the wash rack, donated to the ranch by Shandi Bech, including her deer statuary in the mix of painting s by Katy Niles.

Anahit and Lousin found their way to the tack room. Anahit was surprised to see english saddles.
"We'll have to tell mom" she said to her sister. "I did not expect to see anything english here."

Grace chose to ride La Barilla, and Skye, her odd favorite, Ladyhawk.

Grace showed off La Barilla's side pass, which he did quite smoothly from left to right. Skye chatted with the neighbor girls. Tomorrow, she told them, when the party was over and the ranch was quiet again, would be a great day to go for a ride. Anahit and Lousin were quite agreeable to the idea. 

December 18
Grace glanced at the laptop as she prepared to wake Skye. There was a message from the boss. It was unusually long.

"So I bought Skye a horse. Well two horses really. Maybe three. I'm not sure about the third one. Actually i'm not sure about any of them. I bought one of them and then changed my mind and asked for my money back and then I ended up buying her back the next day. Anyway, it's a surprise. But before she sees them I want you to look them all over. However many there ends up being, two or three."

Grace wanted to reply, and share her experience with Skye being rather humble about gifts, and being exceptionally selfless and without a lot of material needs. But then she stopped. These weren't possessions such as saddles. These were horses. What young girl alive would say no to a horse. Grace closed the laptop.

It looked like the four leggeds were going to get Skye out of bed for her.

The skies were beautiful, with a mass of real clouds building, moving in from the southeast.

Grace let Skye choose the horses they would ride. Skye offered six choices.

"I know the grey gelding is super well trained and pretty much bomb-proof, but he's also an active, high energy horse" Grace said. "I'd scratch that one. And I'd scratch The Black just because of the weather. Her arthritis is probably acting up today. She does need walking, but maybe on softer ground."

The next four were all suitable candidates. Grace choose the old mustang mare and Blondie. 

"I feel like Precious and Spot are so tuned in to you, and occasionally me, that it might be weird for them to have other riders. I mean, I'm sure they'd do fine, but..."

Finding a bridle for the Belgian mare proved impossible. Skye found a halter and quickly made reins from a piece of rope. 

Grace and Skye watched. Anahit and Lousin seemed relaxed enough. 
"She's enormous!" Lousin called to her earthbound friends. "I'm not sure how to sit on her! She's like a chair!"

Outside, there were still a few visible patches of blue in the sky. The girls ventured out, into the stillness. It was quiet. The wind was still. They would just take a very short ride. At the walk. 

Grace noticed hoof prints. Lots of them. Mingled among the cloven tracks of a dozen bull calves, she thought she saw the delicate hoof prints of a foal.

Anahit and Lousin and their mounts seemed content, unruffled.

Skye noticed Grace looking at the ground. Skye looked at the ground also. Grace must've seen something. But what.

Ladyhawk was busy looking up.  A deep, dark layer of clouds moved toward them from the southeast. 

Baron and Hobo turned toward home. The girls collectively followed.

It was perfectly still. And then the soft sound. The rain began.

Grace brought La Barilla back to his stall and the other girls brought their horses to the indoor arena. Showers stopped and started, whispers of rain falling for a few moments, followed by silence and stillness.

Back inside, the girls were wet, all of them, but not much worse for the wear.

"Well, we got to ride in the rain!" Skye said enthusiastically. "Was that La Barilla's first ride in the rain Grace?"

She had to think about it. "Maybe it was. We've certainly gotten wet before, but I don't recall rain."

Lousin looked a bit chilled.

"I'll take you home in the truck" Grace offered. "Skye, I'll help you with the horses in the arena when I get back."

"Can we have just a moment?" Anahit asked, her eyes wandering from one piece of artwork to the next. "I just...need a moment to take all of this in."

December 24
The day of Christmas Eve

"Are you going to come open this box Skye?"

"Does it say it's for me?"

"How did it get here?" Skye asked, tugging on the bow.  "I'm going to guess the boss snuck in and dropped this off, right?"

The lid fairly popped off the box. It was quite full.
Grace looked at the items inside.  "Yup, I think this box is for you Skye."

There was a generous amount of clothing pouring out of that box. Grace wondered what had happened with the horses the boss was talking about bringing home for Skye...if they were coming, if they were coming in time for Christmas. 

There were pajama pants.  A hoodie.

"And look! Skye bubbled. "Tops!"

Skye pulled the pink hoodie on. It was soft and fit her well. A warm and lovely Christmas gift, indeed.  
​                                                                                                    #

November 4, 2023
Alpine glow painted the landscape brilliant. The girls took notice as they made their way as fast as they could toward Mustang Rock.

The dispatch radio from the fire station blared an excited jumble of voices and siren sounds. Something was happening in area 39 , but that was all they could make out. Even with the din of the radio, they could hear the horses.

Owadan was alive, well, and causing trouble with the one stallion who wasn't going to take any...Crazy.

"He looks great!" Skye said. "Now what?"

The girls looked on as the horses moved about. The mare they called Lady Godiva moved the foals away from the two stallions.

Owadan circled relentlessly. But not challenging Crazy. At least, he didn't appear to be challenging. It was more as if he wanted to join the herd, not dominate it.

Crazy had no interest in adding a big stallion to his harem. This wasn't the kind of challenger he was accustomed to.

"How are we going to catch him?" Skye asked.
"I have no idea" Grace said. "And it's not like I brought a halter."

The last rays of light slipped away. Crazy and his band began to move toward the forest, with Owadan never far away.  The horses slipped out of sight, and dusk enveloped the land.

At least Owadan was alive, in one piece, and close by. All of that was a huge relief. Now, how to get him back.

November 5
Dawn came clear and lovely. The girls were mounted up and on the lookout for Owadan. Skye's mare, Ladyhawk, was particularly antsy and headstrong.
"Is it just me or is she really full of herself today?" Grace asked.
"She is!" Skye said. "Maybe she's coming into season."
"Maybe that will work to our advantage" Grace mused.

First light over the Angeles. The girls watched, waited, listened, but dawn came silent.  They rode through the country to the west of the ranch, into the chaparral. Nothing but birds stirred.

They went up into the rocks, taking the trails the wild horses often used.

They scoured the landscape. Skye thought perhaps Ladyhawk saw or smelled something...and perhaps she did. But it was not horses, wild or domestic.  The morning was silent. Not even the slinking shadow of a coyote or the taunting of the ravens. 

Having failed to find Owadan, the girls came back to the ranch, to tend to their domestic horses.  The boss had turned out the newest addition in the indoor arena.  Grace and Skye watched the big silver buckskin mare move gracefully, if a little uncertain, across the arena.
"What do you think she is?" Grace asked Skye.
"A designer sport horse."
"Right, but like, what and what?"
"Oldenburg and...something dilute."
Grace laughed. "That's not a bad guess."
After a few moments, the boss returned to the arena.
"She's pretty huh?" the boss said, more of a statement than a question.
"She is indeed" Grace replied.
"Apparently she was in training to be a jumper" the boss continued, "but she was in an accident...inside of a trailer, like a car accident...and she never got over her fear of trailers after that."
"How did she get here?" Skye asked.
"In a trailer, but heavily sedated, and hooded, and with a sling under her belly to keep her from falling down from the sedation. She might still be a little groggy."
"So she's a rescue" Skye replied.
Grace tried not to smile.
The boss tried not to smile. She paused for a bit before answering.
"No, she's not, but then again, yes she is. She wasn't any use to her owners if they couldn't take her to shows. And anyone who bought her was going to have the same problem. So in that sense yes, she's a rescue. If we sell her we'll have to make sure she goes to someone who understands her history and is willing to work with it."
 
Back at home, Skye came up with a plan.
"I have an idea for catching Owadan" Skye said. "A Judas horse."
"Like the way they get wild horses to run into the catch pen?" Grace asked.
"Yes, like that. All we have to do is train a horse to run back to the ranch."
"And that's what most of them would do even without training" Grace mused. "Head back to what's familiar. Who would you choose?"
Skye thought about it for a moment.
"Not Ladyhawk."
Grace laughed.  

"The only problem with the plan is that we don't have a pen...a catch pen, a fence to funnel him in with...he might just run in one end of the property and out the other. He hasn't really been here long enough to be bonded to the surroundings, I don't think."

Meanwhile, not too far from the ranch, there was more squealing and dust-throwing.

Owadan had found the bachelor band...or perhaps they'd found him...but he was not meeting with unanimous acceptance.  The horse Grace and Skye called The Newcomer was accepting of Owadan. 

Rain Man was not necessarily opposed to his presence.  But Storm was up in arms. 

​Owadan's instinct to be part of a herd, and not alone, was strong.

Skye continued her thoughts about catching Owadan.

"You know, the other thing we could do..." Skye's voice trailed off.
"I'm listening..."
"We could run a whole herd of horses. They always head home. Even the one time when we lost Charmer and you had to go chasing after him, he made a big circle and headed back home."

Grace considered the plan.
"That might work" she finally said. "But. We have to time it right. I mean, the wild horses have to be close. It seems like they all more or less travel together, you know? So it's feast or famine. Either all four bands are close by, or none of them are. So we'd have to just be ready. We'd have to have a plan in place. What horses are we taking. Which ones are we riding. It's not a bad idea. It might just work."

November 12
The wind had been blowing for days. And then, just after sunrise on Sunday morning, it stopped. Abruptly. The ranch horses alerted the girls to the presence of other equines. They were fervently hoping to see Owadan returning home.

It was Petrichor and his band.  It was the first time the girls had seen the mare Skye called Thorn in full daylight.  She had seen the girls too, and was leery.

The bay mare had grown accustomed to Grace and Skye, and kept her distance, but without fear.

Grace could see the nicks on Petrichor's shoulder from his fight, and fall, with Highlander. They were minimal, and healed, white hairs growing in the place of the former golden ones.

Petrichor kept his distance also.
"Are you going to call him in?" Skye whispered.
"No" Grace responded. "He's got his hands full. And I wonder where Highlander's band is."
"Right?" 
"Just when we think we understand something about how these horses operate, they throw us for a loop."
"Maybe" Skye paused. "Maybe the presence of the new mares and that fight they had sort of changed the dynamic."
"Maybe. But wasn't it pretty much business as usual after the fight? Didn't both bands move off in more or less the same direction?"
"They did!"
Grace shook her her head. "I don't know. But we should get our act together. In case we get a chance to go after Owadan."

And so they began choosing horses.

Charmer, the bay gelding built for speed.  The lovely golden Lusitano mare from Shandi Bech.  Blondie, the Belgian, whose calm, stabilizing influence might come in handy.

The seasonal streams and tributaries near the ranch had been dry for weeks, but in the low lying regions, the grass was still lush and green.

Owadan, pushed away from Crazy's band and the bachelor herd, shadowed the movements of the wild bands from a distance, and for the afternoon, had the lush grazing of the lowlands to himself.  But to find water, he would have to travel. He knew the way. He had followed the other horses to their watering spots for days now.

November 13
The wind returned in the night, and Monday dawned blustery.  And there was no sign of Owadan or wild bands. The girls set out just the same. Weather was coming, perhaps as soon as Wednesday. They had to try to find that big red stallion.

Blondie started out a little slow, or perhaps she just preferred to take her own pace.  The girls took the horses down to where they knew there was water, in Chilao Creek.

Charmer was energetic, and needed to be redirected regularly. They were taking a slightly different route than they had in past trips, and it was new to him.

They saw no signs of other horses at the water.

It was calm and cool in the creek bed. The trees all around swayed in the strengthening wind. But there were no other horses, and it didn't look like there had been any in the last few days.  

There was coyote scat, human and domestic dog tracks. Bicycle tracks. The big, heavy boots of hunters who did not need boots, because they were hunting from the road, from their trucks, inside of the campground, taking deer where it is wasn't legal, and where it required no effort or skill. It would still be hunting season for another week or so. Perhaps that's why the horses hadn't come here.

The girls and their herd of horses turned and headed back to the ranch.

Grace, Charmer and Dani Girl were getting quite the lead on the rest of the horses.  Meanwhile, Skye couldn't resist the water, even if just for a moment.

Homeward bound now, it was going to be a challenge to keep Charmer moving at a pace the other horses could match.  And a delicate balance of not encouraging him to go faster by trying to pace him.

Sunlight began to filter into the creek bed. It was definitely autumn.  The wind's strength increased as they made their way home. With the same number of horses they departed with.

It was a great ride, but the mission was unaccomplished. Somewhere out there, the big red stallion named Owadan was still on the loose.

November 18
Clouds billowed across the sky.  Grace ran down the rock face as fast as she dared, heading back to the ranch.  Skye stayed and kept watch.

Then, Grace stopped short in her tracks. She was not expecting company.  Anahit and Lousin were similarly startled by Grace.

"Are you okay?" Anahit asked.
"Skye is up on the rocks. There's a loose stallion. We're trying to catch him."

Owadan was alone, and moving, indirectly, toward the ranch.

Anahit, Lousin and Skye watched him. He seemed indecisive. Skye wanted to try calling him, but she had no idea if he would come to her, or run away.

Then, something got his attention. The girls heard it also.

They scrambled down the rock face. Skye slid down the last part, a smooth bit of granite.

Charmer came thundering toward them.  

The girls watched the two red horses circle each other, energetically and warily. Charmer quickly ascertained that Owadan was a stallion. Owadan gauged the demeanor of the approaching gelding.

There was tension. This wasn't how Grace and Skye had imagined it. Turning a gelding loose to bring in a stallion had a lot of ways to go really wrong.

But one thing did go right. They began galloping together, not side by side exactly, but together. Their ears were forward. They were tense, but their instincts to be in a herd as opposed to alone was strong. Now if Charmer would just turn for home.

Anahit, Skye and Lousin fanned out, hoping to turn the horses in the right direction.

"Ana" Lousin yelled out to her sister,
"Do your call!"

Anahit paused for a moment.
"Do it!" Lousin urged.

Anahit made a sound. It was shrill, like a whistle and a whinny wrapped into one. It was a bit like a mare's anxious call. It had four sharp, excited notes. Owadan took notice. She did the call again. He turned in toward Charmer, toward the ranch, sweeping the gelding along with him.

The horses turned toward Anahit, but they were looking past her, looking toward the ranch, looking for the source of the sound to be coming from another horse. With ample space between them, they ran, past Anahit, toward the sound and smell of the horses in the stable.

Grace came running up the ridge, following Charmer's path, just in time to see Owadan and Charmer running back to the ranch, with the girls falling in behind them. She turned around and made her way back, listening to the sounds of horses and the girls and the boss. It was finally over. Owadan was back. She dropped her pace down to a brisk walk. She was relieved, and all at once, exhausted.

November 26
The wind was relentless. Skye busied herself in the tack room as the afternoon wore on.

"Bored out of your mind aren't you?"
"Gahh! How'd you sneak up on me like that?!"
"You were very focused."
"I'm putting lemon oil on the saddle stands. But I can't even tell if it's helping."
"It is. I can see which one you've finished. It'll darken up, it just takes time. You'll see. Why don't you save this project for later and give me a hand turning out some horses."

Cloud Nine was first. He was an older stallion, a tall Anglo-Barb, but still beautiful. 

Luna was next. She was a fun mare with a playful streak about her. Skye tried to keep up with her big trot.

"The sand is so deep!" Skye called out. "And her legs are so long!"

Luna also enjoyed the company of other horses. That would make life easier for everyone.

The most recent arrival, whom Skye dubbed the designer sport horse, was settling in.

Mateo, the Lippizan cross, was fabulous, but apparently he'd been lost in the sea of currently popular Spanish revival horses - the Spanish riding horse and the historic Lippizan...perhaps they weren't doing a good job presenting him, or perhaps, as the boss suspected, it was a combination of factors, no doubt including his Kladruber blood. The traditional cross to recreate the historic Lippizan was appaloosa (or Knabstrupper) and Lippizan. The boss still loved him, regardless.

The sooty buckskin chap was on the block. Apparently he had a bit of a stubborn streak, and would be staying only long enough to find suitable accommodations somewhere else.

The boss came in with Tosh and Contessa, but paused as she saw that Grace was getting La Barilla going on the lunge line.

"Come on in" Grace said. "He doesn't mind dogs."
"Well, I guess it's a good thing" the boss responded. "I've called and called the number. Francis Loop Caldwell's number. It just rings. I should get a grasp of the obvious. No one is looking for these dogs."
"When did you find them?" Skye asked.
"In June" the boss replied. "In a few weeks it'll be six months that we've had them. If someone was looking for their dogs, we would have found each other by now."
"What are you going to do with them?" Skye asked.
"They stay" the boss said, then laughed. "I guess you were right all along Skye. We're heading down the rescue wormhole."

La Barilla was a little full of himself, a little prancey and showy and high in the front. It had been a while since Grace had worked him nearly every day. He would come around again.   
                                                                                                     #

​
September 2, 2023
Skye found the note on the table. The boss was so sneaky like that!
"Are you ready for an adventure? Find the Pavement Queen."

It didn't take the girls long to find the bright red truck. But a light drizzle had become an in-earnest rain by the time they did. And in the pavement queen they found a kayak. Skye bubbled with excitement.
"Oh my gosh, come on! Let's go to the creek!"
"Skye" Grace said, attempting to be the voice of reason. "It's raining."
"But it's a warm rain!" And indeed it was. But the wind. The wind was warm too. Tropical. Wonderful. But after a few minutes of getting soaking wet, the wind somehow made Grace feel chilled. Skye was apparently oblivious to the chill factor.
"Oh please, please please. Come on Grace. We'll be fine."
"Okay" Grace said. "But not now. I wanted to do something else with the truck right now."

Grace pulled a hoodie over her wet shirt, and the girls got in the truck.
"Where are we going?"
"To the campgrounds" Grace said.   They ambled down the rod in the light rain.  She stopped the truck rather suddenly. 
"Look. Deer."
Skye strained to see. And then she flicked her ears and became visible.  In the tall grass and shrubs along the bank of the creek, she stood, concealed.  And then, across the creek and up into cover of the mountain she went.

The girls drove the length of the campground road, but found all of the gates closed. Grace looked a bit annoyed.
"I know where there's fresh manzanita slash" Grace said, "but we can't get to it."

They turned around and went the other way. Plants had begun to grow in the cracked asphalt of the picnic area. Grace and Skye got out for a moment, to feel the silence. There is a certain hush about a forest trimmed in clouds. You can hear each rain drop fall, together making a chorus of life giving voices. 

But this was not the place to find manzanita. It preferred the south facing aspect of the mountain. So back they went towards the ranch.

Towards the conifer and chaparral interface. To the firebreak.  And there they found what they were looking for.  Manzanita.  Glorious, wonderful manzanita.

The wet ground glowed with reds, yellows and grey, the duff of the manzanita clinging to the textured grey mass of spent yucca.

There were several potentially ideal branches. Skye watched as Grace carefully maneuvered her piece around the tailgate, trying not to scratch the truck, trying to use the weight of the wood to her advantage, to find the tipping point where she would be able to push the branch onto the truck without having to lift it.

Success. Getting Skye's piece in would be slightly more complicated with this one already in the way, but they were motivated, and they got it done.

The boss had been busy in the arena, turning out the most recent arrivals to the ranch, minus stallions. Seven horses altogether.

"These are keepers" she said out loud. "For now anyway. All really nice horses."
Grace and Skye smiled and nodded. The boss would have more to say. They waited.

"You know, it's kind of like a mid-life crisis, except I'm really late. Maybe it's a maturity crisis. But I've spent a lot of time contemplating what's important in this life. I mean, on some level, we are so insignificant. Less enduring than a grain of sand, a tiny speck in the universe, a nano second in geologic time. But, here we are. Now, in this time. So what to do. Say 'nothing matters because I am a nothing in the face of time' or live with purpose. So that is the first choice."
Grace and Skye remained silent. This was a deeper than average dive into the meaning of things.

The boss continued.
"And in this moment in time, horses are becoming something of an endangered species. Luxury animals for the rich. No longer needed for labor. In some ways that's good because the abuse they have suffered as beasts of burden over the centuries...let's not dwell there. But what does the future of the horse look like? In fifty years will young girls still dream of nothing other than owning a horse? Riding like the wind? Being one with the spirt of equus? Or will immersive simulation be the only thing they know?"

Skye stopped breathing for a moment. Immersive simulation...what if the boss was right.  No real visceral reference to the smell, the feel, the warm breath of a horse.

"Anyway" the boss went on, "I'm coming to a point of peace in all of this. A mission if you will. I'd like to shift the focus of our efforts a little bit, and give more attention, selectively, to promoting genetic diversity in rare breeds."
"Told you" Grace whispered. "Not a horse rescue."
Skye's face must have belied her fear.
"Skye, don't worry" the boss reassured her. "The horses you have are staying. We are going to put some more horses up for sale, but not any of yours."
"Oh good" Skye responded. All the rest of the talk slipped away from her consciousness as she watched the horses in the arena.  She got to keep her horses.  That was really all that mattered at the moment.  

The horses in the arena were very nice.  She was familiar with the palomino mare and foal.  She'd been spending time with the filly, getting her used to the touch and sound of humans.

"Well, let's get these ladies and gents back up to the stable" the boss said. "There's one more horse I want to show you."

And he was quite the horse.

"Historical references reveal that the foundation stock of the Lippizan breed included much more color. And genetic diversity. And while the color is very gratuitous, it's the strength of the diversity that is the critical element here. The preservation of everything good while refreshing a narrowing gene pool."

The boss could have said anything really. There wasn't a lot of need to justify why this horse caught her eye. But the justifications were good. Appropriate for the theme of the afternoon's discussion. Anyone could see bringing this one home was obviously the right choice.

Back at home, Grace was still a bit chilled..
"Are you feeling okay?" Skye asked. "Baron always tried to be your favorite lap dog when you don't feel good. Don't get sick on me Grace. I want to take that kayak out tomorrow!"
Everybody wanted to be her favorite lap dog, it seemed.
"We'll see what the weather holds for tomorrow" Grace said. "There will be water for a few days. Don't worry. We'll get the kayak out."

September 3
The day dawned glorious, sufficiently warm, the wind still.  Time to give the kayak a go.

The creek spilled gently across the road. 
"If we could park right here it would be perfect" Skye said. 
"It would, but we can't park on the road. You know what the boss always says".
"A fire truck could get around us no problem" Skye countered.
"The boss says 'When it comes my turn to be rescued, I want my first responders to be cheerful and motivated.' So, we shouldn't park in the road. We want to keep them cheerful."
"Okay fine. I guess that's why the kayak has wheels."

The girls eventually found their way down to the water with the kayak.

"This life vest is a 2XL!" Skye struggled to tighten the straps as much as she could, but it still fit like a cardboard box. "We'll take it along. It's big enough for both of us to fit in."

Skye pushed the kayak into the water, leaving the tail end on land, and slipped quickly and gracefully inside.
"Have you kayaked before?" Grace asked.
"Yes! But not in anything like this. I've been in sit on top kayaks. Ocean kayaks. It's the same principle though. To get in, you get the kayak on the edge of the water or in the water completely, and you get your butt down and your center of gravity low as smooth and quick as you can."

Grace's entry was not quite as smooth...the paddles were large and awkward, her boots notoriously slippery, and her desire to keep them dry pretty strong. It took a little squirming and paddle-shoving and rocking back and forth before the kayak broke free of the land and Grace got her center of gravity where it belonged. And then a few awkward moments figuring out the paddles.

And a few more moments to figure out how to work as a team to keep the kayak level in the water.  And then the magic happened.

Skye fell silent. She let Grace experience it. The different view. The freedom of gliding across the top of a liquid surface. The closeness to Nature. Looking down through the clear water. The sky. The vastness of the sky from the water's surface. The sound of water lapping on the hull, rippling over the paddle. All of it.

Skye reached down into the water, splashing it on her face. It was cool but not cold, perfectly clear.
Grace broke the silence.
"How wet are we supposed to be getting?"
"Oh...I don't really know. In an ocean kayak you can get pretty wet, but there's holes in it, so the water is always moving in and out.
"Well I'm pretty wet" Grace said.
"Me too" Skye responded.
"And if I'm not mistaken we're starting to ride a little low in the water."

Grace let one paddle rest in the water. Slowly the kayak turned around.  

The girls were more or less drenched.
"Okay so we got a little wet, but wasn't that awesome? Just indescribably fantastic?" Skye bubbled exuberance.
"Yes" Grace said. "But I'm not a little wet. I'm soaked. I have more water inside my boots than on the outside."
"But look! Here comes the sun! You'll be dry in no time. Those boots will be...well, if you leave them on they'll be custom-formed to your feet!"

Grace did eventually dry out. So did Skye. And as the afternoon shadows grew long the boss was also excited. Two new tied rope halters from Eagle Nest Ranch had arrived. Grace put one on Loch'sha, and Skye decided to try her luck on a fully trained but as of yet uproven horse...Dunsmoke.

Grace watched Skye's effortless riding. Dunsmoke responded flawlessly to only weight shifts and neck rein pressure. 

"You know" the bosses' words broke Grace's attention for a moment. "...many moons ago I went to a doctor for some sort of female issue. And she examined me and said I had a very straight pelvis. She said 'It will be hard for you to ride horses, or have children, because your pelvis is so straight.' I was just shocked. I didn't know your skeletal structure could have that kind of an impact on what you do. I mean, if I were looking at an animal yes, I could tell you things about what it may or may not be capable of, but I never knew the tilt of your pelvis could determine how you sat on a horse."

Grace was silent for a long time.
"I have never heard that before" she finally responded. "But it makes perfect sense."

The sun's last light fell upon the place the locals called Indian Rocks. Grace wanted to go there. Perhaps in the morning if they could slip away.  And the evening left them with just enough clouds for a fleeting and glorious sunset.

September 4
The day dawned lovely, but the wind blew strong. Grace and Skye waited and watched. There would be minutes of stillness...but then the wind would come again, gusting, forceful, singing its wild song with the pine trees. The arena would have to do for now. Grace took Ono through his paces, and decided to work on his ground tie. Perhaps the ground poles would help him get the idea. 

So far, so good.

Skye called from across the arena.
"Whoops! Sorry about that!" 
Ono watched the errant calf, rocked forward a bit on his legs, and then back, but did not lift a hoof.
"Good stand" Grace said. "Good boy."

Skye and Cookie were sorting out calves when Grace noticed the shift.
"Skye. Can you hear that?" 
"Hear what?"
"The wind. It stopped."

It was a glorious morning. Not quite 11 am. The heat of summer was apparent once the wind stopped mobilizing the air. And it was likely much too late to catch a glimpse of wild horses, although the girls did think at one point that they heard something... and too hot to ride to Indian Rocks. But even if it was only for a few moments, being outside and on a horse was good.

Grace wanted Skye to get used to Cookie. The horse Skye called Twitch, the grey and white pinto that Grace suspected was a reiner, hadn't sold yet. The boss would drop the price a few more times but if she didn't sell, she might make a great horse for Skye.

Cookie was so bold and level headed. She picked her way along the rock escarpments with ease and confidence. Grace remembered riding her bareback, working cattle, when she first came to the ranch, using only a neck rein, and that mostly for her own balance. Cookie was a great horse. And Skye seemed to get along with her just fine.

September 23
The big Thoroughbred mare trotted up and down the length of the arena. She was inquisitive and unruffled, moving smooth and loose.  Grace and Skye watched as she took in the sights and smells without breaking her stride.

They watched as her attention was captured by something along the rail. Visitors! The girls had been so busy watching the new mare, they hadn't noticed the entrance of the other young girls.

Skye smiled and extended her hand.
"Welcome!"
"Thank you." The dark eyed girl reached out to receive Skye's welcome. "We were here for your Christmas party last year" she said, "but we didn't stay very long. My name is Anahit, and this is my sister Lousin." Lousin smiled and shook hands, and then returned her gaze to the sabino mare. Lousin was captivated by the horse. Something Skye completely understood.
"I'm Skye, and this is my sister Grace. This mare just arrived and we're letting her unwind and get familiar with her new surroundings."
"What's her name?" Lousin asked without looking away from the horse.
Skye looked at Grace. 
"I'm not sure what her registered name is" Grace said, "but I believe her stable name is Luna." 
Anahit and Lousin looked at each other and smiled.

The three girls watched as Grace tried to gather up the new mare, but she wasn't ready. She trotted by, again and again, looking rather pleased with herself, rather pleased with her new surroundings. And so the four girls chatted amongst themselves while the mare named Luna made a few more laps of the arena with her big, ground-eating trot.

#

August 6, 2023
La Barilla's golden coat was slightly muted by the indoor lighting.  Still, the boss did her best to get a good shot of him.
​"I can't believe we don't have any halter photos of him" Skye said.
"Well" the boss replied, "If these don't turn out, we'll try again next weekend." And then she headed back up to the house with her camera.
La Barilla took advantage of the opportunity to roll, stretch his legs and kick up sand.
"I'm surprised we aren't getting show photos of everybody" Skye said after the boss was well out of earshot. "Isn't the show season in full swing?"
"It is" Grace responded.

When La Barilla had enjoyed a good turnout, Gunner got a chance to run.
"Do you think the boss is okay?" Skye continued. "She was pretty quiet today."
"I think she's okay" Grace said. "I think she's wrapped up in her head. Re-evaluating her goals and such. That foal that didn't suckle and then the dogs she found on the highway, I think those things had an impact on her. Like a wake-up call."

"A wake up call like...what?"
Grace thought about it for a moment. 
"Like, what's important. What do you want to spend your energy on. When I got here she had horses that weren't doing anything and she wanted me to get them under saddle, in shape, sometimes in the show ring. Now it feels to me like she's looking around and trying to find her place - our place - in the bigger picture. I think she's getting more focused, really."

"Like a rescue?"
"No, I don't think that's what she's got in mind. I think she's looking to make her mark in the world and that might include things like...I don't know, the genetic viability of rare breeds, the environment...that seems to be the kind of things she's interested in." 
"And rescues" Skye added. "Think about all the rescues. All the dogs, the black mare...she likes rescues too."
"True. I don't think we're going to be a horse rescue though. Not intentionally, anyway."

August 12
Evening light was fading fast.  The wind had died down and the girls were in the outdoor arena, enjoying the warm glow of the sun's last light.

"We should change your horse's name from Precious to Pumpkin" Grace called out. "She is glowing in this golden light."
"So is that one" Skye said, watching the new horse, a well put together Quarter Horse gelding, intently.  He did have a lovely glow. He moved well. Grace liked him.
"Does he already have a name?"
"I don't know what it is" Grace said.
"Let's call him Dunsmoke."
Grace smiled. It was fitting.

Grace brought La Barilla to the arena as tree shadows began to creep across the ground. The boss trotted down with the long lens on her camera. Some muttering followed as she struggled with the lens. 
"I don't know Grace" she said after some twenty shots. "I keep thinking this lens is going to magically fix itself like it always does but it doesn't seem to happening this time."
"It's okay" Grace said, "We'll try again early tomorrow morning."
"Take the short lens" the boss said to Skye as she headed off. 

The girls were getting ready to pack it in when the boss called out to them. 
"Do you ladies have a moment for some cuteness overload?"
"Sure!" Skye responded.

She wasn't kidding.  The boss had a surprise for the girls.  A donkey.  A big donkey. She thought he was a Mammoth/spotted donkey cross, as Mammoths hae a solid coat pattern.
"You are adorable!" Skye giggled. "And you're big! And those ears!"
"And why do we need a donkey, right?" The boss added. "I'm still working on the answer. I think she is what you call a...err...impulse purchase."

The boss had done two impulse purchases. The second was a cob type riding pony. He was very nice.  Skye was perfectly comfortable on full sized horses but something about ponies always intrigued her.  

The girls mounted Precious two up and got ready to head in.  
"Where are we going to take La Barilla for photos tomorrow?"
"I thought we'd try the rocks. Where we saw that dun the first time."
"Great idea."
"Yeah but the last thing I want is to run into a bunch of bratty wild stallions with La Barilla."
"Oh yeah huh. That could be...interesting."
And the sun slipped quietly away.

August 13
The sun was just cresting the ridge as Grace and La Barilla approached the rock formation where she hoped to stage her golden stallion. Skye came trotting up.

"Where's the camera?"
Grace was surprised to see Skye running up, empty-handed.

"The boss is coming. She said she's sorry she's late, she was up all night watching European nature documentaries."
And in a moment, Grace could hear the engine of the Pavement Queen as it approached.

The location they'd chosen was great for morning photos. It was, as so much of Chilao is, solid rock, but the rock had a good, toothy surface and this particular location was relatively smooth. But what Grace hadn't thought through was actually getting La Barilla to stand for a halter photo. He could long rein, cross water, address calves, get in and out of a trailer, navigate difficult terrain, and they were working on the Spanish walk. But she hadn't taught him to stand, tied or untied. It really wasn't in his nature. So when she told him to stand, and backed away from him, he really didn't have a clue what she wanted.

"I'm not really sure I can get him to put all four feet on the ground at the same time" Grace told the boss as La Barilla more or less acquiesced to the notion of staying in one place.
"That's fine, I think I got a nice picture. Now go ahead and take his halter off."
Grace opened her mouth to speak, but no word came out.

Skye started to move toward La Barilla and Grace, then stopped. Grace and Skye exchanged silent looks. It was going to go however it went. And they would know in a moment just what that meant.
Grace took a deep breath, and removed his halter.

Grace backed away from La Barilla, speaking to him all the while. "Stand. Good stand. Good stand." The back side of the rock face, beyond where they had chosen to take pictures, curved steeply downward. Chances were good La Barilla wouldn't bolt that way. It seemed unlikely he would bolt toward Grace or Skye just because he'd never done that. He kept his attention focused on Grace, ears swiveling, occasionally appearing frustrated with this barrage of new experience. The boss took picture after picture.
"Great" the boss finally said. I think I got some good photos. Can you turn him the other way?"

Grace walked to the left. La Barilla began to follow her. Grace put her hand up. "Stand..." He stopped coming forward, but continued to turn so he was facing her. "Good, good boy, good stand..."
Click click click click...finally the boss was satisfied. "Okay, I think we got something this time."

"Great" Grace said, fetching the halter. La Barilla, still uncertain what was happening, let himself be haltered. 
"You are the best" Grace whispered. She turned to glance at Skye, who was smiling, a smile mixed with pride and relief. 

And the sun took its path across the sky, another warm day in the making.


August 19
Clouds came rolling in with a strong breeze at dawn.  TS Hilary, a hurricane downgraded upon landfall to a tropical storm, was making its way up the mountain.There was something delicious about the warm wind.
"Do you suppose it's going to live up to all the talk?"
"I don't know" Grace answered.  "Seems like we've spent a lot of time waiting for big storms that never happened."
"Except that blizzard" Skye said. "That blizzard definitely happened."

in case it did start to rain, they turned the flashy chestnut pinto sport horse loose inside the indoor arena.
"Ooh he's purdy" Skye said. "Is he a keeper?"
"For now. The boss wants to get him a little more conditioned before she makes any decisions."

"He looks pretty good to me" Skye said.

Gradually the sky darkened, until the day took on a sort of timelessness.   After a while the wind fell still, and a shadowless hush enveloped everything.

August 23
It was pretty late when Skye found Grace in the tack room, more or less by accident.
"What are you doing?" Grace asked.
"I'm looking for the old bosal. The one I made. I can't find it anywhere."
Grace paused before responding. 
"How weird. After all this time, our go-to bit of gear vanishes. Maybe it felt unloved now that we have the new bosal bridles.
Skye smiled. "Maybe." She looked around a bit more.
"What are you doing?" Skye asked Grace. Another pause before she responded.
"I was going to shorten the stirrup leathers on this saddle."
"Forever why?"
"So you'd have a western saddle that fit you. I didn't want to try it on any of the other rigs 'cuz I'm not sure what I'm doing."
"Where did this thing come from?"
"It looked a lot better in the picture" Grace defended.
I bet it did. A lot better."
"Humor me and have a seat so I can measure it."
Skye got a stool.
"When you are done with the stirrup leathers are you going to replace the stirrups? And fix the flat cantle?"
"The cantle for sure. Do you hate the stirrups? I kind of hate the stirrups."

"You don't really need to do this, you know" Skye said. "Before you got here I had exactly one bosal. No saddle. Never seen a bareback pad before. It was okay."
Grace was pretty sure she could shorten the stirrup leathers and raise the cantle. She didn't have spare stirrups and she'd never made finished western stirrups. And then there was the cinch rigging. The leather was fine but the rest had to go. This was way more project than she's hoped for. And endlessly grateful Skye was obviously not impressed. She wasn't even trying to pretend to be grateful.
"How does it feel to sit in?"
"It's okay. Nice big seat. It sits fine."

The girls stepped back from the project saddle. It was going to be more work than it was worth. 
"All right" Grace finally said. "We'll make this one go away. Are you ever going to work on your native saddles?"
There was a very long bit of silence.
"Sure" Skye finally answered.
"Do you not like them?"
"I love them. I love them. They're small. Front to back, the seat area. And I'm kind of nervous about them. I've never made a saddle before. What if I screw them up?"
"Then we start over."
Grace realized she was forcing the saddle issue on a child who didn't need a saddle to stay on a horse, or to be happy.

August 26
TS Hilary had brought the dry creek bed back to life. The girls took the campground road to the creek crossing as the golden hour reached its peak and shadows began to swallow the day's last light.

"Do you think the water is warm this time?" Skye asked. Previously the creek had been fed by snowmelt. 
"It probably is warm" Grace responded. 
"Let's go in." Skye turned Lochsha back in the direction they'd come from, looking for a good spot to enter the creek. 

Grace looked and looked...it was hard to see any place to enter that wasn't steep. And from the vantage point of Dreamboat's rather tall back, she wasn't sure her depth perception was accurate. So she slid down from his back to get a closer look. In her famously worn-slick boots. And in to the water she went. It was indeed warm. Dreamboat held steady as Grace scrambled out of the water. She walked Dreamboat along the road edge to a small bit of sand bar. She coaxed him into the water, just along the road's edge, where she could now swing herself back on.

Skye emerged on Lochsha. Grace joined her on Dreamboat. The water was deep, and the ground very uneven. But the horses seemed to be enjoying its warmth. They went slowly, and not for a very long way. The golden light faded. Dark would come quickly now.

Skye watched curiously as Grace stood with her arms outstretched in front of the fan.
"What are you doing?"
"Yoga" Grace said. "This pose is called the five pointed star." Grace shot Skye a sideways glance, tried not to smirk. It was no use. 
"I'm trying to get dry."
"Did you fall off your horse?"
"No. Worse. I fell off of my feet."
"Lourdey. I can't take you anywhere."

August 27
Two by two Skye brought her horses down to the arena in the morning's first light. It was going to be another hot, dry day. At least they would have a chance to loosen up, roll, socialize for a bit before the heat took over.

Tropical storm Hilary had made a mess of the arenas, and it had taken hours to clean them of debris and spread new sand. Now that the exhaustive work was over and Skye's herd made the first hoofprints on the fresh surface, it was all worth it.

Grace watched the horses milling about, trotting on the rail, taking in the sights. After a while she turned to Skye. "You know Models in the Mountains is cancelled for 2023."
Skye nodded. "I heard. Heard the road isn't expected to open until maybe the end of the year."
"Yeah."
"I guess we have lots of time to decide how to hang all the artwork. And plan your review."
"Oh, yeah, the review."

When the equines were done with their morning outing, Skye brought down the Great Danes that the boss had rescued. She agreed to take them out while the boss was away on errands.

"Do you really think these dogs will ever leave?" Skye asked Grace.
"I know the boss is trying to find their owners. She put up fliers in Acton and Tujunga, and on the internet. So far no luck. Which makes me wonder if the dogs weren't actually abandoned, you know, on purpose."

As the sun rose in the sky, the girls retreated to the relative coolness of their room.  The heat kept the girls indoors for the afternoon, as it had for days. They moved furniture around, relieving some boredom, getting better light to Grace's side of the room.

Skye liked the bigger dresser, but not losing the manzanita lamp.
"Do you think you could make another lamp?" Skye asked Grace.
Grace considered it. "If I remember correctly, that piece of manzanita was in the bulldozer line after the Bobcat fire. There was a lot of cut manzanita. And it was fresh. I don't know. I guess we could look around the campgrounds. There's been a lot of work done there lately."

The computer equipment was a little overwhelming. 
"The boss bought it for MIM" Grace explained. "I think she got a package deal on some new but older equipment. The idea was to help us tabulate the performance division."
"Will there be another MIM?"
"Yes."
"Do we get to keep all this in the meantime?"
"Ummm, yes. I'm pretty sure we do."
"Cool. I think I can deal with that."

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