Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Tuesday February 9 2010
Finneas and Dudley come running from up the canyon when I call.
I open the gate and let them run down to the house, where the Owyhee herds mingle in a romping dance - two steps, mad sprints, pirouettes, bucks, leaps; all turning on a dime as a flock and dancing back the way they came, the ground shaking with thunder.
(And look at that old Thoroughbred racehorse dig in and run!)