19 degrees and snowing in Crowheart, Wyoming
I'm spending the holiday weekend at my family's ranch in Wyoming. I love being able to tell people I grew up in a place called Crowheart. Even during the years when I thought I'd live out most of my life on Wall Street, I never wanted to lose that part of me.
Nothing matches the peace of a winter morning before sunrise, no light in the house save that coming from my computer screen, watching the snow swirl in gusts outside, knowing the livestock is all safe and well in the barns. I'll be getting dressed in a few minutes to go out and help with the chores. I have to admit I love the horse barn best, and I go in there first and also last, to breathe in through my mouth as well as my nose the mingled scent of horses and fresh hay and warm morning mash, greeting each one of the horses with voice and touch and food.
By the time chores are done, the sun will be coming up, and depending on how heavy the snowfall is, the crows and ravens and jays will be hopping around, black and blue against the white, waiting for their share of our breakfast. Hail to thee, Corvid spirit! Bird thou never wert, but Imp, eyes and beak laughing, showing us your ways and what we might learn from them if we only dare.
Nothing matches the peace of a winter morning before sunrise, no light in the house save that coming from my computer screen, watching the snow swirl in gusts outside, knowing the livestock is all safe and well in the barns. I'll be getting dressed in a few minutes to go out and help with the chores. I have to admit I love the horse barn best, and I go in there first and also last, to breathe in through my mouth as well as my nose the mingled scent of horses and fresh hay and warm morning mash, greeting each one of the horses with voice and touch and food.
By the time chores are done, the sun will be coming up, and depending on how heavy the snowfall is, the crows and ravens and jays will be hopping around, black and blue against the white, waiting for their share of our breakfast. Hail to thee, Corvid spirit! Bird thou never wert, but Imp, eyes and beak laughing, showing us your ways and what we might learn from them if we only dare.