Rainy days

Cold rain cascades off the barn roof as the spring storm roars off to the west. Heavy grey clouds open up across the mountainside bringing life giving rain to this high place. The mud is a foot deep in the corrals. Four wet soggy mustangs stand with rumps facing the driving rain and wind. I catch the big grey gelding and slip a rope halter over his head. After brushing his wet back and saddling I mount up and head for the higher pasture. Near the forest line the rain suddenly stops, followed by instant illumination. Bright rays of sunlight burst forth from the clouds and touch down all across the high country. Every ray brings to light some rare treasure of beauty in the wet landscape. A pine tree sparkles with a thousand diamonds of raindrops, the ridge line above me looks like a burning fire of gold and orange sage. Far off grasses dance in brilliant color amidst a spotlight of perfect natural beauty. The mustang notices too and announces his disapproval at my remaining in one spot for too long. He paws the ground, shakes his head rattling the bit and showering my face with horse water. I wipe my face with a wet sleeve and release him from his imprisonment with a sligrely ouch of the reigns. Bright sunlight returns to the heavens as quickly as it came and the rain starts again. A thousand thoughts come and go in my head as I ride through the rain. Memories, thoughts of the future and moments remembered. A lifetime, all gone over on a wet ride through broken country. The grey decides the day is going too slow and sidesteps. This is his way of asking is we can do what mustangs do best... Run across big country. I give the cue to go and we are off, wet earth and mud fly up in the air as sharp hooves take flight. The ground slides by and for a moment I wonder if he actually did somehow defy gravity. We race through the rain, he loving the freedom of the run, me living for the ride. For nearly a mile we race headlong through grassland and sage. Finally the horse begins to slow and we return to a walk. Steam rises from his now heated body and the smell of wet horse permeates my senses. We turn and head back toward the barn, several miles to go and he will have fresh hay and a dry barn. I will dry my wet body by a warm fire while nursing a hot cup of coffee. But for now we are wet, wild and free riding through rainy days and moments of pure bright sunshine. Kind of like life I guess, some days are wet cold and miserable while others are bright and shiny. I always look forward to the shiny ones... Even while rain is falling. Hawk