The wild horses paced. The other side of the river looked inviting; some of the trees grew right along the shore, allowing for nice shade while cooling their hoofs.
Little Guy's mother started across first.
The others stayed behind and watched.
The river crossing was a fairly easy task for her - the river water never broke over her back.
The other five watched from the opposite shore. Her little guy's eyes never stopped watching her.
She flopped on the sand and rolled. Big horse flies setteled on her back.
The rest of pack should follow soon, right?
She waited...
The others waited...
She watched...
Finally the old gray one started across. 
The water splashed around his legs as he reached the new shore.
He walked up the hill - he also suffered from horse flies.
He flopped and rolled. And rolled... and rolled. He kicked his heels and grunted in amusement.
And then he shook. And cried for the others to follow.
Little Guy bravely started out.
And he walked...
The story will continue.
(All photos are my property - please do NOT copy or download them. )
5 comments:
Again - love this! Put on right click disable. That makes it harder to steal photos.
We can't wait for the next chapter!
Sam
You've captured their faces and the community dynamics perfectly. They are extremely social animals, with very defined roles and rules of behavior. What a treat this is.
It is a wonderful treat to see these beautiful horses. I can only think of how much my late mother would have loved seeing and reading this.
Keep it coming, Bren!
Jo
A really fine photo-essay! Do you know if the old grey is alpha male? If so, did he send Mama first to test the waters . . . like a canary in a coal mine?
Sorry, just trying to be different. They're gorgeous.
Post a Comment