Fragments

The morning came to me in fragments.

The tell tale dust rising above the tall sagebrush was a simple clue that cows were walking through it.

Brown Horse stepped on crusted dried mud, or crispy and crunchy sagebrush, or a spray of fine dust sifted at every hoof print, depending on our location.

Birdsong welcomed the sunrise, familiar and unrecognizable chits and whirs, tweets and trills.

Dally’s panting was background to all other sounds…

Sagebrush, dust, cockleburs, horse sweat.  Welcome aromas compared to the dead bull whose reeking scent made Brown Horse skittish and alert.

The fttttt! of a horse tail assaulting mosquitoes and biting flies…

Squeak, squeal, squitch is saddle leather talking harmonized by the jingle of breastcollar fasteners.

A flash, no two!, of brilliant yellow as a goldfinch flits into the bushes.

My left shoulder warms in the sunrise but my right remains cool and shadowed, for a bit.

Tenor “mehhhhhhh” rings out, answered by momma’s bovine bass, “MEHHHHHH”.  A pair is reunited.

Gathered.

Trailed.

Cussed.

Moved.

Held.

Baked.

Moved again.

They’re ready for the climb up the hill at daylight.

Fragments of my day…

boots

 


Comments

Fragments — 6 Comments

  1. Your “fragments” were almost as good a watching “The Far Country” with
    James Stewart…where a little bell hangs from his saddle horn and is a
    nifty touch to the movie. I think you should get one to add to the sounds around you as you ride!

    • I used to want bells on our team we had a hundred years ago… I might have to pack cotton when I’d want peace and quiet though!

  2. Color me envious. Love the word pictures and the photo too! I too wonder about the bull. I miss the way a saddle talks.

    • I don’t know what happened to this one, he’s been dead a while! Whew! Panama I “gave” to Johnny for Father’s Day… we share!

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