Oh, how lovely to know we share that as well! I'm glad to have brought you back to those hours, and hope you can find your way back to horses again if that is right for you.
The first time I saw your horse-sculptures, they brought tears to my eyes, reminding me of the heart-connection I had set aside and longed to recover. It took the wrenching change that was Richard's death to bring me back to horses, a bittersweet gift indeed. I am grateful to you and your art for helping me remember. xoxo
I was just thinking the very same thing 💕 My Colorado Art Ranch residency in Hayden, CO with Tammie & Patrick Delaney at Diamond O Ranch connected my heart and art back to my profound connection with horses and the Quarter Horse heritage of the Yampa Valley….it also connected me to you and Richard. I am forever grateful for these heart and soul threads of connection along this life journey xox
This reminds me of my grandfather. He was a “city farmer “ with a job n town and a pasture of horses. I loved going there! I got to name Taffy’s new buckskin foal - Flicka, of course. He died when I was 13. Then I rode at Ring Lake Ranch decades later- it all came back to me! I’m grateful for these memories!
Flicka from My Friend Flicka, a book that horse-girls of a certain age all know! I'm so glad you had your grandfather's horses to love, even though you lost him and (I presume) the horses when you were a young teen. And that you could go to Ring Lake for the renewal and riding. (I'm sure you recognized the photo from Ring Lake in the essay.)
Lovely, lovely post, Susan! Horses are wonderful. Wish there were places near me where we could get reacquainted. Instead, I can talk about our three cats, and their presence in our lives, distinct personalities, dependent on us and also giving of affection. And my sons’s dogs and their dogness, and the pets of my childhood, the collie Panchito, reminding us that we are all creatures of this earth. So today I’m thankful for cats and dogs!
Our four-legged companions really do bring us so much joy and learning. We are fortunate indeed to have other animals in our domestic lives to enrich our days. I hope that someday horses trot their way back into your life!
I love horses and riding. A palomino, named Honey, was my support during a difficult time in my childhood. Riding is something I miss, but my back has not tolerated the bouncing for decades and my hips and knees can't function well. All because of arthritis. I'm so glad you can still enjoy it.
Penny, I am glad you had Honey to give you solace and freedom in your childhood. As for pain, I always feel better after riding, but pain is different for different people. I generally ride gaited horses--foxtrotters or Tennessee Walkers with smooth gaits and no bouncing--and at this age, partly because I trail-ride, walking or a rocking-chair lope is the pace for me!
I very much appreciate your essay today. I marvel to myself at your willingness to share your life with your readers/followers. No pretense in what you share. Mostly the flow of your gratitude for life which I’ve come to call Mother Earth. My life hasn’t included horses, though I enjoyed long backpacking trips in the Appalachian’s and 7 nights in Baxter State Park on the most demanding and rewarding terrain. Challenges as profound blessings.
For what am I grateful for in my life today? Certainly my wife and companion, but she still works full time. My dog buddy, Izzie/labradoodle, and I walk together 3 times a day. Mostly circling a nearby pond that harbored Hooded Mergansers all winter. Hawks year round. Owls. Canada Geese that don’t migrate north. Kingfishers. An occasional high altitude Bald Eagle. Despite limitations on distance, the presence of a rich variety of birds sustains my connections with Nature. And in turn the opportunities to read your posts as well as those of others on Substack, that share their alliance with Great Spirit.
How lovely that you have Izzie to get you out for walks, and a nearby pond with interesting birds to watch! It's that connection with nature that uplifts us and keeps us present and grateful to be in this life still. May you and your wife enjoy many years together, and may Izzie keep getting you out for walks!
Susan, I love every part of this, so many places of connection. I rode horse through childhood and young adulthood. They were my ground when none was available. At one point, I thought they might be my career as well. I was born in Montana and love the west. I spent my summers riding horses on logging trails behind my dad's house and back and forth to "cowboy" polo matches (I wasn't allow to compete as it was a male-only past-time in the early 80's). I can also identify with all the moves and houses. We have followed an academic career all over the country as well.
Today, I'm grateful for the sun and time to be alone, write, and work on an upcoming courses offering.
Here's a recent post of mine on riding. Thank you again!
Emily, I loved your post and commented in more detail there--thank you for sharing it! And I especially appreciate this sentence from your comment above: "They were my ground when none was available." At this stage in my life, living in a body/mind that is impaired but doesn't appear that way from the outside, horses are very much my ground and also my wings. Without them--and my generous friends who share their horses--my life would be so much less rich.
Enjoy the sun, your time to be alone and write and work on your course offering! Many blessings to you.
Susan, this is a lovely description of your feelings of adventure and thankfulness for the horses themselves. I rode when I was in high school, and have often wished for just one horse of my own. My older brother did have a horse until a few years ago and I was quite jealous, but so happy for him and his horse, too. Through my life, however, I have relished living with all sorts of animals, mostly cats and dogs, but also, pet rats, parakeets, and guinea pigs. Today our life is enriched by our 2 rescues, our cat Joey and our dog Charlie. Both are just mutts, and full of love, so I get to marvel at their antics and let Charlie go with me for our short walks since I can't walk far these days. We are leaving on our afternoon walk right now as a matter of fact. Thanks so much for your musings about what makes you grateful!
Thank you for these thoughts, Nancy! I think a lot of us went through a horse-girl phase in our childhoods and teens, and it seems to me that bond never really fades. Even if you didn't manage a horse on your own, it sounds like you've had a whole panoply of wonderful more-than-human companions! And I'm glad you have Charlie and Joey for delight and love now. Experiencing the world through the lives of other animals enriches our understanding--of the world around us and of ourselves. Enjoy those walks with Charlie!
Wonderful and wonderous. I started riding (after several false steps) last year and there is something restorative about the aligning of beasts that occurs for me trail riding. And you e captured it here. Thank you.
Matthew, thank you for reading this post! I find that out on a trail on a horse, I am engaged in the world in a different way, partly due to the rhythm of my body responding to the horse's rhythm, and partly do to that aligning you mention. I wonder if some of the alignment is because humans are herd animals just as horses are, and thus we are both emotionally aware of the other in a deep way, as one must be to function in a herd. At any rate, my your trail-riding continue to be wondrous, both for you and the horses you ride!
Lovely post, Susan. I was reminded of a line I saw on a wall plaque at the Museum of the Horse in Tuxford UK: All our history is his industry. I loved the resonance and the truth of that line, for it reminded me of my grandfather's team of bays, huge horses (well, I was a small child). He never drove a car. His horses were his life and his livelihood: they pulled his plow and his wagon until he couldn't care for them any longer. They WERE his history.
Susan A, Thank you for the line from the Ronald Duncan poem, and the link to the poem itself. It's definitely an expression of a history most of us have barely touched, and know only from earliest childhood or family stories. But it's true: without horses, human culture would be very different. I spent many happy hours as a child watching haying crews with horses like your grandfather's team loose-stack tall hay-ricks. Occasionally I was allowed to ride the teams as they trod their paths from stackers to ricks and back again. My short legs barely spanned the backs of those Belgians, and getting up onto them or down again required an assist from a fence or someone to boost me and catch me, but I felt like I was on top of the world on their backs! Thanks for reminding me of those memories.
Since a kid I fantasized about having a horse but having only had the opportunity to ride only a handful of times. Each one, a magic carpet ride. So I loved reading about your experiences and am impressed you ride again. How inspiring.
Jill, I believe it is never too late to do the things that call us, although we may have to do them differently than we could when we were younger. I can no longer fling 50-pound hay bales off a truck and stack them in a barn. Nor can I fling a western trail saddle over a horse's back with any grace. But I can ride--like riding a bicycle, riding a horse is not something your body forgets how to do. I have a friend who is almost 80 years old, and she still rides. Not as often or as far, but whenever she gets on a horse, her whole being lights up. That is inspiring!
Yup. I might have given up my ice skates, but I took up curling and am enjoying a second season playing on a league. Great to be back on the ice. Doing the winter ice thing a little different but also so much fun.
That's excellent. I love to ice skate--it always seemed like terrestrial flight to me--and I can see the allure of curling, although I might not have the patience for it. Enjoy the game, the skating, and doing what you love!
I am also grateful for writers like you and Rudolfo Anaya who capture and express in words thoughts and feelings that swirl around inside me. This week I am reading Anaya's Zia Summer and this section resonated with me as I watched the sunrise yesterday:
"The first rays of the sun peeked over the Sandia Crest, filling the valley with dazzling light. Dawn shadow scattered as the brightness exploded.
A stillness filled the air as the first moments of scintillating light filled the valley, then the leaves of the cottonwoods quivered as the playful light came racing across the treetops and dropped to glisten on the leaves of the corn. The entire valley seemed to fill with a presence, something Sonny thought he could reach out and touch.
“Los Señores y las Señoras,” Sonny whispered, and held his breath.
The old man had told him about the Lords and Ladies of the Light who came with the sun, but Sonny had never been up early enough to share the event with don Eliseo. Now as the dance of light sparkled on the dew and the green plants, he felt the magical moment.
“Sí,” don Eliseo replied. “Grandfather Sun is rising to bless all of life and he sends los Señores and las Señoras down to earth. See how they come dancing across the treetops, on the corn, on the chile plants, everywhere…”
For a moment Sonny thought he could, like don Eliseo, see the brilliant, tall, and handsome Lords and Ladies of Light, who came as sun rays over the mountain to fill everything with light."
Morgan, Thank you for the link to your photos! And for sharing the passage from Rudy Anaya's Zia Summer that so beautifully captures sunrise over the Middle Rio Grande Valley. One of the gifts what literature calls magical realism, but which I would call simply spiritual awareness, is that it reminds us to "see" with more than our eyes, to also see with our hearts and spirits. In that passage from Zia Summer, don Eliseo is showing Sonny how to see with his spiritual eye, a gift that connects him to this numinous world.
As a former horse-crazy kid, I love this! Though I no longer ride, I'm always checking news about horses and love to feature them in my novels (and dogs and cats, where appropriate). Nature and wild places are my spirit place, and I completely understand what you mean by riding getting you up when everything else gets you down.
Karen, Thanks! It's wonderful that you can keep your love of horses alive by featuring them and other animal companions in your writing. I believe that the company of other animals enlarges our lives and makes us more lovingly human.
Many of my life’s happiest hours I’ve been in a saddle. Thanks for returning me there, Susan. Such a rich post.
Oh, how lovely to know we share that as well! I'm glad to have brought you back to those hours, and hope you can find your way back to horses again if that is right for you.
You know I profoundly connect to this Gratitude post xoxo I Love You Susan! Gratitude to YOU and the Horses!
The first time I saw your horse-sculptures, they brought tears to my eyes, reminding me of the heart-connection I had set aside and longed to recover. It took the wrenching change that was Richard's death to bring me back to horses, a bittersweet gift indeed. I am grateful to you and your art for helping me remember. xoxo
I have tears running down my face right now...thank you for sharing that. I am so
grateful the horses connected us xoxo
Colorado Art Ranch and Grant's projects had a profound impact for such a relatively short-lived organization. xoxo
I was just thinking the very same thing 💕 My Colorado Art Ranch residency in Hayden, CO with Tammie & Patrick Delaney at Diamond O Ranch connected my heart and art back to my profound connection with horses and the Quarter Horse heritage of the Yampa Valley….it also connected me to you and Richard. I am forever grateful for these heart and soul threads of connection along this life journey xox
This reminds me of my grandfather. He was a “city farmer “ with a job n town and a pasture of horses. I loved going there! I got to name Taffy’s new buckskin foal - Flicka, of course. He died when I was 13. Then I rode at Ring Lake Ranch decades later- it all came back to me! I’m grateful for these memories!
Flicka from My Friend Flicka, a book that horse-girls of a certain age all know! I'm so glad you had your grandfather's horses to love, even though you lost him and (I presume) the horses when you were a young teen. And that you could go to Ring Lake for the renewal and riding. (I'm sure you recognized the photo from Ring Lake in the essay.)
Lovely, lovely post, Susan! Horses are wonderful. Wish there were places near me where we could get reacquainted. Instead, I can talk about our three cats, and their presence in our lives, distinct personalities, dependent on us and also giving of affection. And my sons’s dogs and their dogness, and the pets of my childhood, the collie Panchito, reminding us that we are all creatures of this earth. So today I’m thankful for cats and dogs!
Our four-legged companions really do bring us so much joy and learning. We are fortunate indeed to have other animals in our domestic lives to enrich our days. I hope that someday horses trot their way back into your life!
I love horses and riding. A palomino, named Honey, was my support during a difficult time in my childhood. Riding is something I miss, but my back has not tolerated the bouncing for decades and my hips and knees can't function well. All because of arthritis. I'm so glad you can still enjoy it.
Penny, I am glad you had Honey to give you solace and freedom in your childhood. As for pain, I always feel better after riding, but pain is different for different people. I generally ride gaited horses--foxtrotters or Tennessee Walkers with smooth gaits and no bouncing--and at this age, partly because I trail-ride, walking or a rocking-chair lope is the pace for me!
I very much appreciate your essay today. I marvel to myself at your willingness to share your life with your readers/followers. No pretense in what you share. Mostly the flow of your gratitude for life which I’ve come to call Mother Earth. My life hasn’t included horses, though I enjoyed long backpacking trips in the Appalachian’s and 7 nights in Baxter State Park on the most demanding and rewarding terrain. Challenges as profound blessings.
For what am I grateful for in my life today? Certainly my wife and companion, but she still works full time. My dog buddy, Izzie/labradoodle, and I walk together 3 times a day. Mostly circling a nearby pond that harbored Hooded Mergansers all winter. Hawks year round. Owls. Canada Geese that don’t migrate north. Kingfishers. An occasional high altitude Bald Eagle. Despite limitations on distance, the presence of a rich variety of birds sustains my connections with Nature. And in turn the opportunities to read your posts as well as those of others on Substack, that share their alliance with Great Spirit.
Thank you ever so much, Susan.
How lovely that you have Izzie to get you out for walks, and a nearby pond with interesting birds to watch! It's that connection with nature that uplifts us and keeps us present and grateful to be in this life still. May you and your wife enjoy many years together, and may Izzie keep getting you out for walks!
Susan, I love every part of this, so many places of connection. I rode horse through childhood and young adulthood. They were my ground when none was available. At one point, I thought they might be my career as well. I was born in Montana and love the west. I spent my summers riding horses on logging trails behind my dad's house and back and forth to "cowboy" polo matches (I wasn't allow to compete as it was a male-only past-time in the early 80's). I can also identify with all the moves and houses. We have followed an academic career all over the country as well.
Today, I'm grateful for the sun and time to be alone, write, and work on an upcoming courses offering.
Here's a recent post of mine on riding. Thank you again!
https://econway.substack.com/p/learning-to-ride
Emily, I loved your post and commented in more detail there--thank you for sharing it! And I especially appreciate this sentence from your comment above: "They were my ground when none was available." At this stage in my life, living in a body/mind that is impaired but doesn't appear that way from the outside, horses are very much my ground and also my wings. Without them--and my generous friends who share their horses--my life would be so much less rich.
Enjoy the sun, your time to be alone and write and work on your course offering! Many blessings to you.
Thanks so much Susan. I’m glad horses are also your wings.
Susan, this is a lovely description of your feelings of adventure and thankfulness for the horses themselves. I rode when I was in high school, and have often wished for just one horse of my own. My older brother did have a horse until a few years ago and I was quite jealous, but so happy for him and his horse, too. Through my life, however, I have relished living with all sorts of animals, mostly cats and dogs, but also, pet rats, parakeets, and guinea pigs. Today our life is enriched by our 2 rescues, our cat Joey and our dog Charlie. Both are just mutts, and full of love, so I get to marvel at their antics and let Charlie go with me for our short walks since I can't walk far these days. We are leaving on our afternoon walk right now as a matter of fact. Thanks so much for your musings about what makes you grateful!
Thank you for these thoughts, Nancy! I think a lot of us went through a horse-girl phase in our childhoods and teens, and it seems to me that bond never really fades. Even if you didn't manage a horse on your own, it sounds like you've had a whole panoply of wonderful more-than-human companions! And I'm glad you have Charlie and Joey for delight and love now. Experiencing the world through the lives of other animals enriches our understanding--of the world around us and of ourselves. Enjoy those walks with Charlie!
I thoroughly agree, as does Joey in my lap as I write. :)
Sweet!
Wonderful and wonderous. I started riding (after several false steps) last year and there is something restorative about the aligning of beasts that occurs for me trail riding. And you e captured it here. Thank you.
Matthew, thank you for reading this post! I find that out on a trail on a horse, I am engaged in the world in a different way, partly due to the rhythm of my body responding to the horse's rhythm, and partly do to that aligning you mention. I wonder if some of the alignment is because humans are herd animals just as horses are, and thus we are both emotionally aware of the other in a deep way, as one must be to function in a herd. At any rate, my your trail-riding continue to be wondrous, both for you and the horses you ride!
Lovely post, Susan. I was reminded of a line I saw on a wall plaque at the Museum of the Horse in Tuxford UK: All our history is his industry. I loved the resonance and the truth of that line, for it reminded me of my grandfather's team of bays, huge horses (well, I was a small child). He never drove a car. His horses were his life and his livelihood: they pulled his plow and his wagon until he couldn't care for them any longer. They WERE his history.
I looked up the line later: it's from a poem by Ronald Duncan: https://specialcollectionsarchive.exeter.ac.uk/exhibits/show/ronaldduncan/writing/thehorse A reminder of just how much we owe this remarkable animal.
Thank you for this lovely tribute.
Susan A, Thank you for the line from the Ronald Duncan poem, and the link to the poem itself. It's definitely an expression of a history most of us have barely touched, and know only from earliest childhood or family stories. But it's true: without horses, human culture would be very different. I spent many happy hours as a child watching haying crews with horses like your grandfather's team loose-stack tall hay-ricks. Occasionally I was allowed to ride the teams as they trod their paths from stackers to ricks and back again. My short legs barely spanned the backs of those Belgians, and getting up onto them or down again required an assist from a fence or someone to boost me and catch me, but I felt like I was on top of the world on their backs! Thanks for reminding me of those memories.
So sad that so many children have grown up without a memory like that to hold onto. Grateful to you for the connection, Susan.
Since a kid I fantasized about having a horse but having only had the opportunity to ride only a handful of times. Each one, a magic carpet ride. So I loved reading about your experiences and am impressed you ride again. How inspiring.
Jill, I believe it is never too late to do the things that call us, although we may have to do them differently than we could when we were younger. I can no longer fling 50-pound hay bales off a truck and stack them in a barn. Nor can I fling a western trail saddle over a horse's back with any grace. But I can ride--like riding a bicycle, riding a horse is not something your body forgets how to do. I have a friend who is almost 80 years old, and she still rides. Not as often or as far, but whenever she gets on a horse, her whole being lights up. That is inspiring!
Yup. I might have given up my ice skates, but I took up curling and am enjoying a second season playing on a league. Great to be back on the ice. Doing the winter ice thing a little different but also so much fun.
That's excellent. I love to ice skate--it always seemed like terrestrial flight to me--and I can see the allure of curling, although I might not have the patience for it. Enjoy the game, the skating, and doing what you love!
This week I am grateful for the magical light of spring that blesses us in the morning. If you are on LinkedIn, you can see my photos here - https://www.linkedin.com/posts/activity-7166443408172015618-hBI1?utm_source=share&utm_medium=member_desktop.
I am also grateful for writers like you and Rudolfo Anaya who capture and express in words thoughts and feelings that swirl around inside me. This week I am reading Anaya's Zia Summer and this section resonated with me as I watched the sunrise yesterday:
"The first rays of the sun peeked over the Sandia Crest, filling the valley with dazzling light. Dawn shadow scattered as the brightness exploded.
A stillness filled the air as the first moments of scintillating light filled the valley, then the leaves of the cottonwoods quivered as the playful light came racing across the treetops and dropped to glisten on the leaves of the corn. The entire valley seemed to fill with a presence, something Sonny thought he could reach out and touch.
“Los Señores y las Señoras,” Sonny whispered, and held his breath.
The old man had told him about the Lords and Ladies of the Light who came with the sun, but Sonny had never been up early enough to share the event with don Eliseo. Now as the dance of light sparkled on the dew and the green plants, he felt the magical moment.
“Sí,” don Eliseo replied. “Grandfather Sun is rising to bless all of life and he sends los Señores and las Señoras down to earth. See how they come dancing across the treetops, on the corn, on the chile plants, everywhere…”
For a moment Sonny thought he could, like don Eliseo, see the brilliant, tall, and handsome Lords and Ladies of Light, who came as sun rays over the mountain to fill everything with light."
Morgan, Thank you for the link to your photos! And for sharing the passage from Rudy Anaya's Zia Summer that so beautifully captures sunrise over the Middle Rio Grande Valley. One of the gifts what literature calls magical realism, but which I would call simply spiritual awareness, is that it reminds us to "see" with more than our eyes, to also see with our hearts and spirits. In that passage from Zia Summer, don Eliseo is showing Sonny how to see with his spiritual eye, a gift that connects him to this numinous world.
As a former horse-crazy kid, I love this! Though I no longer ride, I'm always checking news about horses and love to feature them in my novels (and dogs and cats, where appropriate). Nature and wild places are my spirit place, and I completely understand what you mean by riding getting you up when everything else gets you down.
Karen, Thanks! It's wonderful that you can keep your love of horses alive by featuring them and other animal companions in your writing. I believe that the company of other animals enlarges our lives and makes us more lovingly human.
Absolutely. My cat buddy Dickens has definitely saved me from depression and anxiety multiple times. He cuddles whenever I'm not feeling well.
What a blessing! And Dickens is a great name. :)