Into the woods

The river story, finale

On the opposite shore, a blue heron flies over the pregnant mare and her mate. 

 Red Dad chases Little Guy up the hill, across the rocks, and back down to the shore. 

 But Mama Mare has had enough. "Let's walk to the trees", she said to her young one. 

"This is just the beginning, Little Guy..." 

And she nudged him to reassure him.

On to Part Three

I left you at the river, watching the wild horses cross to other shore.

Mama Mare had crossed. After struggling with the darn horse flies on her back and rolling in the dirt, she cried for the other horses to cross. Old Gray crossed and joined Mama Mare.

  

 Old Gray arrived and awaited near Mama Mare for the rest of the pack to cross the river.

Little Guy was nudged to start his short trip across the water.

Little Guy arrived and ran to Mama Mare. She immediately allowed him to nurse.

 It was easy to count I now had three horses on each side of the river. Equilibrium isn't always a good thing... So the Red Dad started across the river. Pregnant Mare and her mate stayed on the far side.

 Wait, where did these guys come from????

 Red Dad waded the river easily and arrived quickly. 

 Hence, Red Dad, Mama Mare, Little Guy and Old Gray regrouped.

 Mama Mare started  the pack of four up down river to the shade trees. Pregnant mare and mate watched from the far side.

Mama Mare snapped a comment to the Red Dad - and suddenly Red Dad engaged Little Guy in a chase around the shore.

It looked like fun, a game of chase - but was it that simple? The essay will continue...

A river story part 2

 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. )

A river story

A walk along the Salt River led me to a pack of wild horses. Currently, wild horses survive along the river - their future is in limbo. 

But I watched 'my' pack as their story unfolded. 

It started with a blue heron flying over us.

 I hope you will follow their story as I share it the in the next few days.

 The pack of horses was small - just six horses. The 'old gray', 'red dad', a small 'little guy' (you see him in the back/middle of the photo), a very 'pregnant mare', her 'mate', and at the far right - 'little guy's mom'.

Old gray one 

 Little guy's Mom

Little guy

Red Dad

 Pregnant mare with mate - and blue heron flying over.

My hour with the wild horses will continue...

(All photos are my property - please do NOT copy or download them. 

The story is my story - please do NOT think it is the only truth.)