After five years living here on the high desert plains of Northwestern Nevada, I’ve become used to seeing wild horses. The horses were good neigh-bors, never really meaning harm to anyone. Seeing them would brighten my day with their new spring foals. Like the seasons, they would appear and disappear like clockwork.
Until.
They.
Disappeared.
Simple as that. They are no more to be found.
Now, this is very strange that they disappeared just about the time HHH and I really started thinking about fencing Winterpast. HHH is itching to plant beautiful roses and flowers in the front yard. Those things don’t mix too well with grazing mustangs, and so, we requested an estimate.
After receiving a ridiculously high quote for the fence, we noticed the “problem” was now gone. Day after day, I hoped to see the white mare who sheltered next to my house through many winter storms. She and the others have disappeared. It’s difficult to make one hundred 1500 pound animals disappear unless helicopters and trailers are involved.
With their disappearance arrived a letter about the latest planning commission meeting to discuss proposed industrial districts. A new highway through the hills will meet up with the interstate. New parks and more houses will be built. None of these goals include herds of wild mustangs roaming wide open plains.
Silently, with stealth, helicopters, and trailers, our mustangs were removed. Quite probably, they were moved to the feedlot just north of us, awaiting those new owners who will never come. After a time, they’ll take one more trailer ride towards the wide open plains in the sky.
Here at Winterpast, the front yard plans are less complicated now. With no wildlife around, (except the squirrel), a fence-less facelift with paint and plants is in our future. Of course, a new band of horses could be working their way towards us just in time to eat the new roses. Sometimes, that’s how things go in the high desert plains of Northwestern Nevada.
As we drive to Walmart, there’s real sadness in the empty desert. With the logistics of the many manufacturing victories around here, the loss of the horses will be permanent. Now, I’m just an old one remembering our neighborhood visits. The fate of the white winter-night mare standing guard just outside my bedroom when widowhood was new will haunt me forever. Run free, old girl.
Whatever you do today, take time to appreciate things in your life that could be gone tomorrow. Take pictures. Stop for a minute to appreciate our open spaces. Far too quickly, you may find things have changed “for the better”.
More tomorrow