It's the first inhale, the sting, the relief of exhale, the icicles forming on the neck warmer and then the melt with the next exhale, only to freeze again. Ice crackles as our less-than-fashionable boots leave loud aggressive prints in the snow. A quick hand flail rights me on the ice. Duck under an electric fence and open the barn door. Snorts of absolute frustration meet me. I am 30 min late to releasing the inmates from their cozy evening beds. It is our routine; they wait at the gates to come in, stomping impatient hooves, then they curse me when it is time to go out.
Bill always has a morning pee. Bill waits until I open the barn door and step through, he does his loud curses and then urinates. It doesn't matter how fast I move, or how early I get to the barn. Bill waits. I think he hears my boots, knows my gait and he just waits. I can stand outside the door for minutes and still he waits.
Letting the horses out is one of the most enjoyable moments of my day, the love of the fields, the snow, the breeze, and the rain. They have an intensity and excitement that is just joyful to watch. Your mind runs with them, and you smile because you have to, but you can't stop it from happening.
A million photos will never catch this moment of freedom.
It is our morning minute, the release and then the crunching. All you hear is the echoing crunch of hay and snow. It's the perfect moment when nothing can touch you and you can touch nothing.
This blog is the journal of my adventures in fulfilling a dream. A dream filled with horses and family. Of WTF did I do, and why didn't I do it earlier? It's about discovering what I am made of and helping others discover what they are made of.
These are the weeks of the Misfit Cowgirls, our endless mission to learn about horses, to seek new adventures, and new friends, and to boldly go where the horses have gone before.