We’ve been doing a lot of horse-herding recently. The grass is almost finished on our slopes and the new hay isn’t in yet, the result of a colder/wetter year than is usual in these parts – our weather is dictated by the Atlantic, which is suffering from melting polar caps, as I’m sure you all know – so, in time honoured tradition, we take the herd to look for greener pastures.
The property on which we live is under repair. The pine and eucalyptus trees were cut before we got here, but the place is still littered with stumps and branches. We cleared one slope just barely in time to seed some oats as green feed (for the soil not the horses!) and the horses are kept out of there. Most of the time they roam around the steep hills, foraging between the timber debris for native grasses, heather, gorse, and whatever else is edible (have you ever watched a horse eat gorse tips, or thistles? Know how they do it? Carefully!).
We have varied this diet with occasional access to the grassier areas around the human living areas when we want to control growth (we use them to strim in other words). We also have a few flat areas alongside waterways which were cleared of bramble and bracken, then seeded with a grass mix of 10 traditional grasses. They are not really established yet so the horses are only allowed on to do a little trimming to help strengthen and thicken the growth. Anyway, horses used to a wide variety of plants become quickly bored on plain old grass it seems. Now all those areas are used up and we can’t count on further growth till September sometime (as far as we understand from the locals, it’s all new to us, we don’t really know the growing cycles yet, or the times of fat and lean ).
So to keep the horses healthy and happy, physically and mentally, we turn to horse-herding. One behind the other we set off in search of fodder. The horses know the routine now and quickly fall in to their allotted places (allotted by them not us) and follow us keenly. And likewise we listen to them, moving at their pace, heeding their suggestions.
One day we find bunch grasses under the Eucalyptus plantations, which is a favourite, or we cross the river to an overgrown patch of land full of herbs and grasses, or today, we find ourselves under a stand of pines that is due to have it’s under-storey cleared on Monday, but now is rich with long-stalked grasses, cow parsley and other delicious tidbits. Jessie is topping all the thistles.
I sit and watch over them, sharing the pleasure of the breeze in the pines, the fresh, green smells, and the peacock-blue dragonfly resting on the ferns. When they’ve munched their way through this lot they’ll let me know and we’ll move on, walking calmly in a line, connected by the invisible string of energy that holds us together. Time and place dissolve in this walking, I feel the nomadic spirit, ancient and immediate, and nature’s rhythm pulsing in us all.
I invite you to share for a moment in my horse watching meditation in this short video clip: Nothing ever happens what is just is!