One Year
A year ago today, our horses arrived at Wintervale. It feels like an awful lot has happened in the year since that day. 
One of my favorite memories is of the day Hunter laid down to chill next to me while I raked the paddock. They have done a great job of helping me to feel comfortable navigating in their space.
That thought takes me back to the previous May, when I traveled to Arizona to attend Cyndie’s final session of Eponaquest training, where I met Dunia and had my first lessons on interacting with horses.
That weekend gave me confidence that allowed me to quickly adjust to becoming a caretaker of our herd of four. I recall that on the first day we opened the big hay-field to the horses, I walked up to the top of the hill to check on them, and their reaction to my sudden appearance was to immediately gallop in my direction.
It surprised me, and I suddenly became aware of being in a precarious situation. Instead of succumbing to panic, I relied on the knowledge gained during that weekend session in Arizona. With my energy and the wave of my arm, I projected my barrier distance, which they instantly respected. I was not trampled by the stampeding herd, despite the possibility.
Even though I have grown a lot in the year we’ve had them, I feel as though I barely have started to learn about horses. I am lucky that they are so patient with me. I think they understand that I mean well, despite my sometimes fumbling methods.
Another shot from the previous year… Couldn’t help but chuckle when I spotted this as I scanned through the image archives. Poor things. This was not one of their prouder moments.
It is our hope to accomplish a variety of improvements this fall, intended to alleviate the muddiness they were forced to deal with in the spring.
We prefer to see them basking in the comfort of a dry surface. In that regard, a little sunshine goes a long way…
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Relative Something 
I enjoyed reading all about the horses. The pictures were perfect for your story. Love the horses running towards you. I would of been excited and not thinking about how it could go the wrong way. Our horse comes to greet us but is in no hurry.
georgiw
September 28, 2014 at 10:13 pm
Hi, Georgi! Since you have now met them in person, does it help you relate to my descriptions even more?
It is actually more common that our herd takes their own sweet time to approach, unless the feed pans are being put out.
johnwhays
September 28, 2014 at 10:44 pm
Re:Even though I have grown a lot in the year we’ve had them, I feel as though I barely have started to learn about horses. Still feel the same way myself: you learn that the horse has a mind of its own and wants input in any process/dialogue, but that is the joy of it … naturally!
Ian Rowcliffe
September 25, 2014 at 9:39 am
Sometimes, when I am toiling away on some task in their paddock, they completely ignore me, which is in distinct contrast to other times when they approach me very intentionally and stop very close. I find myself nose to nose with a horse. I would like to be able to “hear” what is on their mind at those moments.
That is a gift Cyndie has enjoyed, but I have yet to reach that level of connection.
johnwhays
September 25, 2014 at 10:05 pm
Well, sometimes there is nothing at all to hear: horses love to connect through sharing space – they share intimacy, deep intimacy. In those special moments, they transmit transcending peace and love… and for a moment, you are allowed to feel that the world is one and feel incredibly blessed.
Ian Rowcliffe
September 26, 2014 at 7:35 pm
That is something I *can* do.
johnwhays
September 26, 2014 at 10:24 pm