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February 22, 2021: Still Crazy after all These Years

Paul Simon, he has a lot of staying power. Bruce Springsteam (har har) too. Bob Dylan, it isn’t staying power, it’s petrification. Nicotine, it’s the tar holding his body and mind together. Funny, how we can pass judgement on people we don’t even know. I wonder if those who are famous like this get weary of meeting people who think they know them.

I think these kinds of things when I am out on the trail, alone, for hours on end. Odd, I never feel lonely, ever. You’d think I would. I often think that I’d like to have a riding companion, but this is before I set out.

Tyra running through the snow

Sometimes I have ideas days. Often not, instead, just a steady stream of consciousness, from driveway beginning to driveway end. Sometimes I do compose dispatches. And other times I continue to work on essays. Right now, I’m writing an article about the book project, called Book Ends. It’s about what becomes of a book that ends up in the recycling Gaylord. The book is “Oh The Places You Will Go.”

And too, the horses often interrupt my musings, most often by alerting on something. They often see something I do not. I look around, sometimes I see a moose or a bicyclist. Or I smell or hear a snowmobiler. If I don’t see what they see, I urge them to continue on, hoping that whatever it is will also move on.

Today was one of the most remarkable days weather-wise. The light snow that was falling caught the light of the low-lying sun, and it appeared as though glitter was falling from the sky. I was then riding Hrimmi. I felt like I was in the land of fairies. I next got Raudi out on our trails. By then, big fat flakes were falling from the sky. I rode along and attempted to catch them on my tongue. I next walked Tinni around the loop and on our trails. By then the sky was overcast. The distant mountains then appeared as though a wind/snowstorm was passing through. Lastly, I took Tyra out. The sun was then very low in the sky – the trees were silhouetted by an orange ball surrounded by shades of orange and yellow and pink. Tyra’s red coat appeared to be the same color as the sun.

I hadn’t taken Tyra for a woods walk for some time. She kept with me when off lead until the final part of our journey, the winding straightaway that’s been commandeered by the snowmobiles. She saw that stretch and galloped a ways, then came back, then unable to restrain herself, took off in the direction of home.

I just stood there, watching her move at top speed, every so often throwing in a buck or sidekick. The sight was awe inspiring. I then realized that it must take considerable discipline for her, when under saddle, to move in a slow and balanced fashion. So no, I wasn’t annoyed about her taking off. Of course, I hoped she used good judgement when she got to the road and she did.
This was my day.

Next: 54. 2/23/21: Discipline(d)

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