Wind Singing, Sighing

Wind Singing, Sighing

There is more energy in the Wind for me than Sunshine can ever give me. That's why I named my horse Wind Dancer, because she was the most beautiful when her mane and tail were part of the wind when we rode together, she and I. She was an Appaloosa, with very defined leopard spotting, with the whites of her eyes showing almost human, as a true Appaloosa's do. and her hoofs were striped and colorful, the way they can be...her base coat was dun. but, I think, shinier than dun. all the spots were the leopard-patterned white, some small like frost.

I think she was quite a mix of her two parents, who were both mottled-mouthed like the true Appaloosa, but her sire may have been a dappled gray in his mix, so it wasn't clear if she could be registered proper. I sure didn't care. I thought she was just beautiful, of course, as did most folks who saw her.

The guy who had raised and trained her said that she was probably a stock horse type, which meant she was a short-race runner. but even when I had her, she had the heart for middle-distance.

One old guy at the Fair track said, "That's a Palouse for sure. through and through." he was talking about the Palouse River area, where the Nez Perce Native Americans had lived. He was from somewheres in Northeastern Oregon his self...said he knew horses from his grandfather, who raised Appaloosas on his ranch somewheres in central Idaho.

At any rate, she and I were Wind Folk for sure. the Wind made us restless for a day out on the trail, and we went about for hours trotting the roads and cantering the low fields. where I knew the lay of the land and it was safe - no holes and gullies and so on...we'd start out restless and then go down slowly until we just sometimes walked home tired and cooling down right. home to her feed and mine, too....evening was our special time. I'm not much of a morning rider. so Johnny, my honey, would take her our mornings to get the spring in her for the day.

We both worked in town during the days, so she was on her own with Jake, who share-cropped our thirty acres of corn land. he'd visit her and water and feed her if we needed. when we went on our few vacations, he'd ride her too. I'd get jealous cuz she clearly liked him better than me in the saddle. I've never had a good seat, and he's still a natural rider. him and a horse are like one animal. with me, it's clear there are two animals. just being pals. not being all "one" and everything. I really think horses just tolerate me, to tell the truth....

Wind Dancer had the pace of a Peruvian Paso Fino...that rocking-horse, 1-2-3-4 gait that's good for people with 'bad backs' like me...many long-distance runner horses like Appaloosas have nice gaits like that. but Wind's gait was really splendidly smooth! I was grateful or that....except for her restless evenings, that so matched mine, she was a darling, good-mannered lady....

I used to sing to her in her really foolish times, just before rains, when the low thunders spooked her a bit. I used to sing about saddling up my Wind Dancer and flying like Pegasus in the skies. on wings like that. The whites of her eyes would soften from their wild spaces where she was wanting to run away. I wanted to run away too. I could feel her panic. there were times I wanted to run away on her, as far as she could go without food...water and freedom were all that we needed, to be what we were together at those times.

If you could see the wonder of her before waves...she was like a child and I was like a child then too. She would remind me that waves and oceans and dreams and leaps of faith were child dreams that could be real if you wanted them to be. that you could believe that everything wasn't held by gravity. that magic could happen. her mane would whip in the wind and the spray would catch us both dancing like ballerinas in the waves. unafraid. not ordinary. extra ordinary. beyond ordinary. forever in the spray. queens of the oceans....

Forests were more green with her. smelled of green and trees breathing in and out. the trail was a ribbon through the thousands of trees. the green all around it. nothing to scare us. at great, green peace. no one to make us unhappy. no hunger or thirst. just the need for the breezes in the leaves and the shy life hidden all around us. the long, long trail through the woods and the violets...especially the violets....

the quiet of grooming her. the hair and the muscle and the long limbs and the patches of wonderful glistening color. and the granites and opals and rose quartz stripes of her hooves...she was such a lovely animal. calming her and cooling her and feeding her just right. love as a duty to her animal needs. the time it took, when no one could or was interested in bothering you, as this was work...only, really, it was my pleasure!

then there was the feel of riding itself. seated on her back. feeling so alive in my legs and hips and arms and belly and chest and rise of my head on my neck. my hands alive and flowing like her mane. and my hair flowing like her tail hairs out the back of my riding helmet...for minutes at a time, we were moving like one animal...then we'd be two animals again....sometimes less in sync than others...but always together somehow...a lot like most loves can be....

Wind Dancer died.

We had first noticed that she couldn't seem to see well at night. would bump into everything. couldn't stay on the trail. spooked real easy...the vet said she had Uveitis. Lots of Appaloosas got it. they didn't have much pigment in the skin around their eyes. he gave us meds to help with the eye "discomfort". Wind was not a happy horse. her sight was going rapidly. we decided just to take care of her. protect her with safe and comfortable fencing. try to ride her on safe trails where she'd have no challenges....

it was only a matter of weeks when we noticed that she was rapidly losing weight. the vet thought she also had skin cancer around the eyes.  nothing much could be done. he thought there were probably mets from the primary cancer around her eyes. she was in pain. that was clear. we had her laid down to rest.

we laid her down to rest.

I'm not a person who places animals over humans. I'd not mourned an animal before. Still, I grieved for Wind Dancer. she had intelligence about life. and, a pleasure about life. it always had come through...especially in her eyes.

I figured I'd have another horse soon. but I did not.

My honey and I divorced. I could not afford another horse.

I rode friend's horses. friends of friends. we were friends.

I believe I loved Wind Dancer. the way you can love a good animal. a really good animal.

When the wind in singing through the trees

or sighing in the waves

I can feel her. the riding of her.

now, I have my panics alone. feel quite alone, really....

hear her neigh in the singings and sighings of the wind....

Call to the Wind Dancer inside of me.

and she comes home.

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