Patti Dammier
Spring was everywhere. The long, dreary, snowy days were fading, and the thawing weather had begun. No longer did the horses have to dig under the snow for grazing. At the edge of small wooded area where the wild horses often took shelter, the heavy branches of the trees, loaded with snow and ice, dripped a steady flow of water. This water would provide moisture for the new growing grass and provide the lush fields for the herd. It had been a long winter, and the horses greeted the kinder weather with anticipation. It seemed as if it was a wonderful dream as time flew by. There were several more days of classes and then a planned schooling show for halter and trail ride event. The other farms they had visited were going to join the Rolling Hills Farm for a picnic and event day. Got Carrots was going to perform in her first halter class.There were quiet murmurs among the group, because no one wanted to surprise or frighten the wild horses. Mike whispered, “It’s them. Look! It’s the wild horses.”They all watched in surprised amazement as the herd quietly lined the lake and began to drink. The group watched as the horses slowly drank from the lake. The drinking went on for some time, and just as suddenly as the horses appeared, they departed. It was an unhurried, slow motion as the wild horses vanished into the fading light just as suddenly as they appeared.
