Summer Ahead

Friday, March 12, 2021 (9 days until the First Day of Spring; clocks forward in 2 days)

A couple of evenings ago, while walking my horses home from a neighbor’s pasture, I could feel their energy rising. Looking around I saw a male on a motorbike coming toward us from behind, neither slowing or pulling over. He saw the disturbance his motor caused and didn’t stop, just held up a hand to calm me while riding on past. The horses weren’t as disturbed as my donkey. She tried charging up front in an attempt to run away. I yelled asking the guy to shut his motor, but he ignored me. Somehow I managed to hold onto the donkey, a strong animal.

That awakened me more to this changing neighborhood. It’s growing, new homes being built, more people moving in, and much becoming less the same. My horses used to pull my buggy through the neighborhood and also through the nearby unimproved outback under power lines. We rarely saw a hiker, bicyclist, or moving vehicle. When we did, they gave us wide berth. My horsey rounds were routine and comfortable.

I’ve been aware of more traffic, new people, and fewer vehicles slowing for us. The motorbike incident made me worry about the safety of continuing to walk on streets with the horses. Or worst, driving on the streets, a horse pulling my buggy.

Yesterday, while coming to the house after feeding large animals, I heard unusual roaring motors–loud, insistent, maybe heavy equipment working in the neighborhood? Waiting outside my house to see what made the noise, suddenly two vehicles roared into view. Their motors deafening, they passed my house, swung around in the cul de sac, and noisily raced past me in the opposite direction.

The vehicles looked homemade, not street-legal. They were wooden platforms, up off the road at the height of mid-wheel, and with steering mechanisms and motors. Over my quiet street, the drivers, sitting low on their butts with knees high, blasted past in full force.

It was easy to imagine what might have been, if moments earlier these vehicles had appeared as I walked with horses. Horses would never deliberately hurt me, but they’re beasts of prey and alert to events, sudden and unexpected. Loud vehicles chasing them could drive group excitement, and high negative energy can create undesirable outcomes.

I would feel less safe now, walking them twice-daily a third-of-a-mile down the road, to and from a lovely pasture. There might not appear more motor bikes or platform-level thrill riders, but for the safety of my horses and me, we shouldn’t take chances.

This city rapidly is changing right before our eyes. The east side where I live long was considered an outback, populated largely by old-timers with little farms, who grew hay and kept a few horses. This city has become one of America’s fastest-growing, and everywhere with new construction projects giant and small, bringing more new property buyers and residents.

Maybe it’s over-reacting, but I’ll adapt to keep us safe. No more road walking. The thing is, equines are wonderful pets, smart, willing, adaptable. They find their way into human hearts, deeply, indescribably, and absolutely. They’re also big, powerful, sometimes reactionary. Interacting with a horse means understanding that the animal innately is kind, but remaining alert to its energy levels.

Dear Friends: I’m re-thinking our summer activities, and away from the neighborhood. Diana