I just saw a squirrel skitter across the snow. It was bound for the big flower bed southwest of the house. It was a skinny little thing, but still it counts as one of those signs of spring. I've seen evidence of the squirrels out in the woods where a storehouse of pine cones provides them plenty of winter nourishment, but I haven't heard or seen the little buggers for weeks.
I know they're there because on our jaunts through the woods, Kiwi will suddenly sense one's presence and stop to stand guard watching intently toward certain treetops where the creature is quietly hiding. This Sunday sighting gives me hope that the slow process of winter's transition into spring is beginning.
Besides clinging to the notion that spring will come soon, I'm doing everything I can to help it along----one step at a time. Every morning while distributing the hay in the horses' pasture, I take each armload a few steps further to the east. That forces the three horses to walk those extra steps and move around in their clumps while eating their breakfast. They must also walk across three quarters of their pasture to go get a drink from the water trough.
Gradually this activity knocks down yet more two-foot deep, cementy snow, opening up yet more open space where they can move around freely rather than hunkering in their huddle in a small area near the barn.
Except for those mornings this week when the flu bug made any motion seem like scaling Mt. Everest, I've rather enjoyed the brisk walks to and from the barn while scattering the hay. Every step burns another calorie. Every step hones those old leg muscles. I notice that Casey is walking with a bit of arthritic tenderness each morning as I take him from the boxstall, so it's good to develop more space to give his legs some much-needed exercise.
Yesterday, I couldn't stand it any longer. I've watched Miss Lily, the Oklahoma transplant, tiptoe her way carefully around barnyard ice. I've seen her trot just a couple of times for about ten feet maximum. I've seen her buck and kick a few times, but I've never gotten to see her run.
It was mid-afternoon after the Zags beat Pepperdine. We headed outside, and I had plenty of time to get the stalls ready for the night. Bill was going with the dogs to the woods to do some burning. He decided to see if he could get the 4-wheeler across the field leading to the woods without getting it stuck.
"I think I'm going to turn Lily loose," I announced as he prepared to drive the 4-wheeler down the long lane leading to the far shed. "She won't go far, and I think she'll like getting out where she can move." I walked inside the barn and grabbed a halter so I could catch her when the time was right. When I opened the gate to let her out, she wasn't quite sure that it was okay. Just a little nudge, though, and out she went as Rambo and Casey stayed behind and watched.
First, she just walked around the driveway. Then, she headed inside the barn. I urged her outside. She then turned west toward where Bill had headed moments before. As I watched her suddenly take off at breakneck speed down the lane, I noticed Bill and the dogs just beyond the shed. Bill was sitting in the 4-wheeler, and Kiwi was scrunched down on the ground waiting.
"Big mistake," I thought. "Kiwi's gonna want to herd Lily." I yelled to Bill to call Kiwi back. Lily kept running and thankfully turned to the right in front of the far barn. I ran fast after her to make sure the dogs didn't get in the middle of her moments of freedom. When I had almost caught up to her, she turned and shot past me back toward the barn. The horse can run. She does have racing blood in her background.
"Lily, whoa! whoa!" I yelled as she neared the barn and her pasture. For an instant, I figured that new board fence may need some fixing, but, thankfully, Lily knows how to put on the brakes too. Rambo and Casey seemed impressed.
Lily then spun on her hind feet and turned back our way. Again, her sprint toward us meant just a few seconds of watching. Even with her big brown horse blanket flapping at her sides, she cut a beautiful sight as she turned toward the shed and pranced with tail and nose in the air as if dancing on eggs.
Then, she decided to head down over the hill, where by now, I knew Bill was stuck with the 4-wheeler. Kiwi remained anxious to do her Border Collie work on Lily, but Bill was able to lure Kiwi his way as Lily pranced across the cleared area and then found herself just like the 4-wheeler, stuck in the snow. She did not protest as I put her halter on and led her back down the lane and to the pasture where her two buddies were still waiting and watching at the fence.
For a brief time, I saw stunning beauty in motion and Lily saw freedom. It won't be long until that limited winter space opens up to vast green fields, and we'll both get to enjoy a whole lot more.
No comments:
Post a Comment