WIND!

An approaching wind gust that slapped the fabric walls of the yurt against their frame and swayed the deck structure when it hit.

There are times when the New Mexico wind seems almost like a living entity, a houseguest who has overstayed their welcome, wearing you thin with a constant dialogue. As I have said before, I don't much care for wind. It leaves me feeling exhausted and anxious, an overload to my skin, too much information coming in. I understand why the Wild Boys tend to stay on high ground where at least their eyes can't be deceived. I imagine their wide nostrils and cupped ears taking in scents and sounds that can't be sorted out...is that hint of bear or mountain lion close, or carried miles by the wind? And the roar in the pines drowns out everything else, making them startle easily unless I announce myself as I approach.

During extended periods of wind, there is a thought that runs quickly through my mind and goes like this, 'If I had known how much the wind blows here, I might not have been willing to come.' Taken by itself, that sounds as though there are times I wish we hadn't come to this mountain. When in truth, it is a small, involuntary prayer of gratitude that I didn't know and so came to live in this place of my heart.

In the past I have also said, after fleeing the constant fear of fires in California, 'I will never again live someplace where thoughts of fire dominate a significant portion of my life.' And here I am. The problem with making proclamations like that is you often prove yourself a liar. So I adjust during times of wind and feel gratitude for the morning and evening lulls, when I can sit on the deck and appreciate the calm. I make plans for fires and stay close to home when the danger is high. I am haunted by the people who lost homes and animals when they weren't allowed back in to evacuate during the recent fires to the south of us. I don't know that I could survive knowing our four-legged family members died because I wasn't here to protect them. Staying close is a small sacrifice, just a few weeks in a good year of snow and rain, a few months in a dry year. And all certainly worth it when the balance is to live here in this place of peace for my soul.

Griton's leg wound, freshly cleaned and packed with antibiotic ointment.

Griton update: though I hate having him wounded, this injury has had a positive result in a very odd way. Griton came to us not having much faith in humans. He had been abused, then sold to slaughter, rescued by Janelle who saved him and his feet both, and finally home to us. Like a child raised in a loving, functional home, Griton's wild birth gave him the inner strength to let go of his old history and to be 'reborn' here on the mountain. He gave up his fear of saddles and having a human on his back. He chose to have me as his best friend, the one he is constantly looking for. Even if I just glance out a window towards him, he seems to know and I see his bright face and pricked ears turned towards me.

As a reward for his excellent behavior, Griton was allowed to go into the orchard to graze for a few minutes. Since this is the only grass on our land, they all look forward to this treat.

Having me doctor his wounded leg hasn't been easy for Griton, especially since the edema settled in and it began to be sore. I prefer to not restrain our horses unless it is absolutely necessary. I expect them to stand quietly for grooming, tacking and other care, with lead ropes looped over necks. Learning to trust us and to make a choice to stand patiently is an important part of building a relationship with them. Asking Griton to stand still while I wash out a deep, painful wound and apply medication has been hard for him. I have followed him quietly as he backed away, head up and tense, muscles trembling. I have spoken softly to him, reminding him that I am the person he loves, until he has stopped and held his ground, dropping his head, heaving a big sigh and deciding to trust me. It always humbles me when one of these formerly Wild Ones makes the choice to put their life in my hands.

'Blech!' Llego and Corazon had to investigate my vet supplies and Llego regreted taking a taste of the water mixed with a wound cleaning soap.

I am watching this wound closely because it is the sort of thing that can blow up on you in a hurry and the vet clinics are closed until Tuesday. We are very conservative about vaccines and antibiotics, preferring to build a healthy immune system instead. Tetanus is of course an exception to that, which is why he immediately received a booster. Our wild born horses have the benefits of healthy, bare feet that function as they were intended. They have lived an early life designed to create hardiness. They live outdoors in a clean environment and are fed a diet that suits their wild natures and metabolism. All of that said, I have antibiotics standing by and at the first sign of heat or infection, he will get them.

Best friends ~ Llego and Corazon are so deeply bonded it is hard to imagine how the loss of one would affect the other.

This morning Griton's wound looks much better, less swelling and the wound itself still clean and showing signs of beginning to close. Best of all, he has no more fear about me touching and examining it, standing quietly without even a halter on.