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I Sit in Wonder...
It started out as any other Saturday, up
before the sun, make coffee, check email, say hello to the dogs, greet the
horses and review the list of projects that needed to be accomplished
before the sun set in the evening. This Saturday had a few dramatic
twists, as I needed to be several places at one time during the same time
frame so there would have to be some juggling there. The
electricians were coming out to wire the new Horse Barn at the same time
the Farrier was arriving to trim the horses hooves, plus, I needed to pick
up a load of hay prior to noon....so, it was time to dance.
On the morning of Saturday, February 1st all of Lafayette Parish was under
a dense fog warning and when I stepped out of the house at sunrise it was
obvious that things might be moving a little slower until the fog lifted.
I was immediately greeted by the pair of happy-go-lucky German Shepherds
who are always excited on Saturday morning as that means they get to go
for a ride in the Big Red Truck to get hay.... oh what fun. But
as I gazed out into the pastures, I could not make out the four pampered
ponies, as the fog was too thick. I walked out through the back of the
barn and no one was to be seen, so the odds were pretty good that they
were in the back pasture munching down on their round bale. I
stepped out several yards, gave a call and waited. The mist
swirled around me like foam in the surf as I listened intently for
rumbling hooves, but the morning maintained it's silence.
Slowly like dolphins slipping through the depths the phantom shadows of
the horses slowly began to materialize before me, one at a time, in order,
in line, calmly walking up to me in formation for their rub on the
withers, the pat on the chest and scratch on the belly. Each
taking their turn at receiving their morning hello, until all four circled
me. Together, we walked back to the barn.
At the barn I stopped and surveyed the new side gates that lay in place,
waiting to be installed by the part-time ranch hand, me. While
Harley gently mouthed my cell phone in an effort to steal it from my belt,
I began scratching down a list of hardware that I was going to need
to accomplish the gate project. I dropped my pen when Harley
hit pay dirt and swirled my cell phone above my head by the antenna.
A big grin on his face as this is his favorite game and
he had managed to pull it off without my interference, Harley one, Human
zero. I retrieved my phone and bent down to pick up my pen
when I heard a distance pop, bang or shot. I immediately
became alert to the fact that I was standing amidst a small herd of
horses, in limited visibility, with "scary" noises occurring.
Quickly I looked at the horses, and then relaxed as they
did not spook, they were not nervous, in fact that were standing in an
alert stance, heads held high and ears at full extension, looking to the
north north/west, the opposite direction from whence the sound had come.
I calmly wondered if it was a gun shot as who in their right mind
would be hunting in the middle of a fog bank, and then the thought slipped
away into "LaLa" Land as I proceeded with my tabulations.
I remember concluding my list, walking back into the barn and turning
to gaze at our equine children, they were still there, standing in
place...in fact, they were in formation, one in front, three in back
staring intently to the northwest. Their formation
reminded me of a delta, a triangle pointing into the direction of their
labored glare. I was confused, how could they be so interested
in looking in the wrong direction, what were they hearing, what did they
think they were seeing and what was going through their minds as they
appeared to be mesmerized and in a trance?
The sight of them there, standing in the mist looking off into nowhere
disturbed me to the point that I called to them. No one
budged, I called again and the head of the Appaloosa turned in my
direction just enough so that one sad eye could look at me.
I motioned to him and he slowly turned around, walked to
me with his head lowered and nuzzled my hand. I scratched
his forehead and noticed that his right eye had just formed a tear, one
lone solitary tear. I asked if he was sad, I asked if he
wanted more food, I asked what was the problem and only heard a
gently sigh in response. I dusted it off and went back to work.
At the time, I did not know that to the north of our quiet farm, a comet
was passing overhead, a bright meteor carrying the souls of seven
courageous and generous human beings home. I did not know, I
had no clue that seven souls of my species were headed across the bridge
high over heads...I did not know. But four horses stood at
attention, four horses looked to the skies and four horses felt something
that I did not. And in reflection I wonder if I did not miss
something else that morning, something else that my single- minded human
brain did not hear, something special, something wondrous, yet I was not
listening. I now sit in wonder and roll it over in my head
time and time again, that gentle sigh, that horsy response and the tear in
that eye. What did it say, what did it mean? Did I
really hear something in the gentle escape of air from those equine lips,
a sound so profound that it did not compute at the time it happened?
Was that a gentle whisper, a thought, a suggestion?
Was my soul and not my ears hearing those quiet words?
Was the meaning what I really now think it to be? Was
my heart touched by the souls of the four horses when I still failed to
understand yet admittedly heard the whisper, the soft voice that spoke on
another level, "We are so sorry, we are so, so very sorry". I
sit in wonder.
R.T. Fitch
Board of Directors
Lone Star Equine Rescue
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