26 February 2014
I stare placidly at the snow surrounding me and the large oak tree at my back, wondering if I should have brought sunglasses – the sun shining on the large expanse of unbroken snow field is blinding. I’ve heard my relatives in Newfoundland, Canada generally often carry ski-type sunglasses with them in winter. How ill-prepared winter always seems to strike me in Missouri, though after twenty years I should be used to the extreme polar opposite conditions that occur over the winter and summer seasons in my native state.
Interesting that I’m making such simple realizations now…
I’m tempted just to put away my journal for a good amount of time before putting my thoughts together into something that does not just resemble stream of consciousness, though I’ve really put myself in a time constraint for the rest of the day’s homework; there isn’t much time to write outside of these thirty minutes I’ve allotted to write here at the farm.
They have the horses out today at the circular pin over to my left. Besides the building for the foals and medically treated horses – as well as the expansive ranch where they generally keep the horses – the only other things to break up the monotony of color in the landscape are those in that circular pin.
They really are beautiful, majestic creatures. I’ve never looked at a horse without thinking just how damn-near poetic anyone would sound trying to describe them.
The vehicles of earlier day,
Capable of making our ancestors’ flying dreams come true,
Horse-back riding with both sailing hair and mane.
Carrying our material burdens on their shoulders,
By a higher power rendered quiet and accommodating.
Trustee companions they were and always will be.