When I first moved to my farm, I pretended to be Jane Goodall. My land was a high desert prairie, not the jungle, and my species was horses and hers were chimps. But I focused on what we had in common. It was always about curiosity and learning. I was a kid when I … Read more
It’s the eve of Christmas Eve and I’m worried about my dirt. Maybe the world has bigger problems and maybe it doesn’t. It’s a toasty 49 degrees with 30mph winds, with gusts to 75mph overnight. Not normal Colorado weather, but that’s seems to be the weather everywhere these days; not normal. My farm’s dirt could … Read more
One horse flicks his ear, still grazing, another pauses his jaw, his tail still amid flies. The mare lifts her head, intelligent brow above wide nostrils, while the elder gelding keeps his neck low, courting smells wafting on the breeze. A small movement in the distance, awareness passes through the herd, their breath in shallower … Read more
My working definition of stress is being alive.
Clinics in the Garden of Paradise.
Clinics in the Garden of Paradise.
Hold steady to the calm and peacefully persist.
A horse hears what the rider honestly felt, not what the rider thought she said.
Is it possible that horses anthropomorphize, too, and see humans in their own reflection?
Existing in the present moment without expectations or demands is an art form. Respect the masters.