One in a million photo

 I was going through a bunch of my old photo files....2009  was an interesting year. 

I happened to capture this photo of neighbor Joe's horses all lined up...

Just a whistle out the car window and they came and lined up...it was almost like magic.  It is my one in a million photo.  Oh I am sure if you had well trained horses you could duplicate the photo...but these are just horses raised by an extraordinary man. 

Far Side

Joe and his horses

The man loved his horses.  When I was young and in love with all horses..he would let me ride his.  He taught me how to ride bareback..he taught me that some of his horses could be ridden with just a halter..they were trained good..why?..he trained them himself.  I loved my afternoons spent at his farm.  He had a passel of kids..but few of them rode.

I would call and ask if it was okay to come over..the answer was always..yes!  I would take off on my bike.

There was this one last hill..I would ride as fast as my bike would allow..and watch for sand at the bottom of the hill.  The farm and the horses were just beyond the crest of this hill.

I have photographed this hill on many occasions.. it is just down the road from where we live now.

The memories of good times gone by..of the wind in your hair and the horse under you at a full gallop.

Even after I got my own horse (who was a terrible biter)  I preferred to go over to Joes to ride his horses.  His horses never bit me..they may have tried to brush me off on some of the low hanging branches in the pasture..but they never bit me.

Now I just photograph the horses..I always asked Joe “How many horses do you have now?”  He would answer in a ever so soft voice..and ask me to keep it to myself..because his wife Vi thought he only had a few.

He was always ready to share a story or two or three.  He died last Monday so the stories will end but the good memories will remain.  Joe was 85.  When he was 65 years old he rode with the Itasca State Park Centennial Wagon Train from St. Paul Minnesota to Itasca State Park.  Now let me tell ya that is a fur piece to ride on horseback..he always said that it was a ride of a lifetime:)

Ah-ha Moment

Sometimes I get the feeling that I am in the right place at the right time..two of those ah-ha moments have happened to me recently.

The first one was back in July at Lefty's, along the river in town. I was trying to photograph an Oriole when all of a sudden out of nowhere a bird landed on my arm, his feathers brushed my arm as he swooped in for a landing. He just sat on my arm, I looked at him, he looked at me, we made eye contact..he flew off onto a lawn swing and I took his photograph. Then he flew away. It was strange, I felt as though I had been kissed by a bird. Much later in the summer a comment at the Pow Wow about the possibility of a spirit bird..got me to thinking..had I already encountered a spirit bird? It is a good thing that I didn't scream like a girl and scare that bird half to death. A long time ago we had parakeets and a cockatiel so flying birds don't scare me. If it was a spirit bird..who was it? Maybe it was Charlie, whatever, just thinking about Charlie makes me smile.

Ah -ha number two was yesterday. Chance and I were bored stiff, it was the seventh day of cold spitting rain..we headed out to scowl at the rain and do a little stop the rain dance. We just drove, picking gravel roads, where there is little or no traffic. We have things to check on, the patch of Milkweed in a nearby ditch, I want to get a few seeds before it is mowed down..I am too late, the mower guy has already been busy with his big honking ditch mower, I hate that guy, he obliterates all the photogenic dried seed heads that will soon be covered with frost. We have to check the river, the water level is slowly coming up with all the rain. We drive aimlessly after that..then all of a sudden we see a herd of deer. Oh boy, Chance is primed to bark, they are on his side of the car, there is no way I can get a photo, it was a mass of white tails in the air as they headed for the safety of the woods. Well that was fun! Right or straight..which way to go?? Sometimes you pick the correct way, sometimes you don't. Do you ever wonder what would have happened if you had gone straight ahead? I turned right..luckily for me that is where the ah- ha moment unfolded.

( Doncha just love the way I can drag out a tale?) Okay, exactly how many horses does Joe have? ( Violet never really knows for sure. ) I love to watch the horses kick up their heals and run, imagining that I am riding bareback, flying along, the wind in my hair, the smell of wet horse filling my nostrils, the earth moving faster and faster beneath the valiant steeds hoofs..OKay..enough daydreaming.. the horses came running.

See they are happy to see us!

What happens next is magical, like something out of the beginning of the old western "Bonanza" where the horses and the riders come running and line up perfectly.

Not just a few either..and there are no riders.. I counted fifteen, but it was a quick count, the photos only show fourteen. Then I felt bad, I can't even share the photos with Joe, cause then Violet will have proof he has more than just a couple of horses. Chance and I enjoyed the horses for quite some time, finally we drove on..content with our ah-ha moment:)

Horse Memories

Years ago when I was a youngster I had a fascination with horses. I read books about horses, I talked about horses, I daydreamed and dreamt about horses. Like my grand daughter Madison says "I NEED a horse. Grandma you understand that a need is different from a want? " I understand that line of thinking "I needed one too." My only opportunity to ride was at a neighbors two miles away, Joe had a bunch of horses, and his children didn't like to ride. In the summer I would hop on my bike and pedal over to his farm and ride in his pasture. He had several horses that were gentle enough for a thirteen year old to ride, Joe would call one in from the pasture and taught me how to put on a bridle. Off I would go, bareback, that's how I learned to ride, feeling every muscle on the horse move beneath you. There is an art to riding bareback, you learn to use your legs to stay on the horse, there is a no other feeling that compares to riding a horse at a full gallop bareback with the wind in your face and the landscape flying by. Years later I had to re learn how to ride with a saddle, I never did like riding with a saddle as much as I did bareback.

My parents finally decided that I could buy a horse of my own. They had grown up with work horses, any horses that didn't work were called "hay burners." Dad and I went to the sale barn, I wandered up and down all the stalls, I visited all the horses tied up and spoke to some of the owners. I finally spotted the horse I needed, an older mare, I had no idea what kind of horse she was, she was brown and not too tall with kind gentle brown eyes. She nickered softly when I approached her. She nuzzled me when I stroked her head. She was just perfect. I showed her to my Dad..and declared that she was the horse I had dreamt about. The one that would take me on many adventures but always get me back home safely. I was convinced this horse would be my best friend.

We sat in the bleachers, the horses were brought in one by one. The Auctioneer would sing the praises of each animal. My Dad was interested in a horse that was good with kids. I was interested in the horse I made a connection with. My Dad bid on a very tall Appaloosa Mare that was about four years old and good with kids. He bought her..I was excited..but sad that my dream horse would be left behind.

I do not even remember what her name was, she was not good with kids and she hated me. She was a biter, and would bite me every chance she got. While I was riding her she would try and reach around to bite my foot. She would try and buck me off..she was a pain in the neck horse. When I brought her a bucket of grain she would either bite my shoulder or my boob..yes she was a boob biting old nag. I was black and blue all summer from her bites. By the end of the summer I was back riding at Joes, appreciating a horse that didn't bite. The boob biting old nag of an Appaloosa was sold..and I didn't even say goodbye to her. I continued to ride at Joes every chance I got.

Joe still has horses, he is now in his eighties. He rode in a wagon train on a trip throughout Minnesota one summer. The kindness he showed to me as a teenager I have never forgotten..we shared a love of horses. Since his children didn't share his interests he shared with me. I still ask him "How many horses do you have Joe?" He never quotes a figure, cause his lovely wife thinks he only has a few. Sometimes I drive out to his north pasture and watch the horses, and remember sunny summer days feeling free as a bird flying along on one of his horses:)