Wild

A thousand horse and none to ride! -
With flowing tail, and flying mane,
Wide nostrils never stretched by pain,
Mouths bloodless to the bit or rein,
And feet that iron never shod,
And flanks unscarred by spur or rod,
A thousand horse, the wild, the free,
Like waves that follow o'er the sea,
Came thickly thundering on,...
~Lord Byron, XVII, Mazeppa, 1818

I am constantly grateful to know a horse, to look deep into their eyes and feel a connection to their soul. I know the freedom felt from a horse’s back with the fury of thundering hooves. I know how in the summer their coats glisten and the scent is warm. In the winter their coats grow long and their bodies grow fat. I know how to exist at peace in the same space as a horse and to control my emotions because they directly influence a horse’s. I know the feel of a saddle and the confidence I’ve gained. I know how to gather their mane in my hands and hold on tight. I know horses are a perfect metaphor for how we should live, brave and strong and boundless in forward motion. All of this I know because I’ve been granted a gift. However, this gift of domesticated horses comes at a price. Wild horses are quickly becoming a thing of the past. More and more their numbers are shrinking and their futures are becoming uncertain. A year and a half ago I spent a day in the Kiamichi mountains with a man named Bryant Rickman. He was doing amazing work to conserve a bloodline of Spanish Mustangs and allowing them to remain mostly in their wild, natural state of freedom. But even as I got to see the herds and peek in on their instinctual ways of life, logging companies were demolishing their habitat and they were slowly being forced off the mountain they lived on. Yesterday I met two girls who are also doing great work to rescue wild mustangs. The horses are smart and hold so much potential, a lot of them will be great with people but still I long for there to always be a place for horses to run free...