These days when I go to sleep, I count hours of irrigation in a field, or I count horses.  This is easy with my own small herd:  two mustangs, three Quarter Horses, one paint.  Maka and Painter; Kua, Lynx, and Doll (this one I did not name), and Maui.  (You might notice a theme here … Continue reading

Hail Yes!

Hail Yes!

The water got turned on on Saturday.  This means that somewhere higher up in the mountains than I am, where ponderosas shadow the forest floor, a valve was opened and water began leaving its manmade holding pen and rushing through cement channels and dug ditches toward, could it think, something like freedom.  Twice on Saturday I … Continue reading

In the Pen

Canon City, Colorado: After getting briefed on prison protocol and loading into vans, cameras, cell phones, and pocket knives left safely in the BLM office in town, we went inside. Only “inside” this part of the federal pen is actually outside, eighty acres of large corrals, barns, arenas, round pens, tack rooms, and office, many … Continue reading