Click to listen to the audio version — 3 minutes
“The deep snow is just like sand for the donkeys’ hooves; the donkeys browse tall grass and shrubs as they step through the heavy snow; the grains of snow-sand grind their hooves, front to back, side to side, and come spring they’ll have perfectly trimmed feet. When I come back in the spring, I won’t have anything to do except visit with you”. Matt Dumolt- Mule Springs Farm farrier
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The sun. The donkeys and I stepped methodically. Grinding away, at a long narrow path made days before by my four-wheeler. I had tried to cut a path, so we could continue taking our daily walks.
Ziggy, the gray donkey led the way; I followed, but it was a balancing act. I had to place one foot directly in front of the other, instead of a little out to the side like humans normally do. Somehow the donkeys, with four legs, were able to skillfully manage a very narrow trail. Recall those sure-footed donkeys who carry visitors along ledge-path to the bottom of the Grand Canyon.
For Chippo, the donkey behind, I was just another herd member. If I stopped, he’d stop, but when we were walking sometimes he would be so close, I could feel his muzzle brush my body. It wouldn’t take much to topple me over. So, I’d make a backward swishing motion with my arms— like swishing a tail back and forth. Just as a mother donkey would do, to tell the young one “back off.” Chippo respected this message. Soon we’d be three— walking on— and all three perfectly spaced.
Occasionally, I lost balance and stepped outside the deep rut. This was totally disconcerting, for if I stepped off-trail, I might break through or not. If not, it was a big step up-then back down. It was startling to crash threw though, a jolt, before I could regain the narrow path once more. Either way, it slowed us and tired me to step off path.
The sun was welcome, and it cast a deep light making white impossibly bright. Still, darker pocket-lines of elk tracks often traversed our path. And, I rested a while with Chippo resting too behind me. I spied delicate, spidery tracks on the snow. The trail meandered; it might have been made by a mouse. Suddenly I thought of the Sahara desert and a caravan— bright hot sun and white sands as viewed from a thousand feet above. Imagine this! The tracks of camel in the desert as seen from above would reflect a similar pattern like the tiny trail I was seeing now. Sahara sands and snow sands sharing patterns in common.
Charming juxtaposition!
Thanks Peri– good to hear from you!
Lovely!
And narrow is the Way that leads to Life….
Well said… I like that connection Adolph– thank you for reading and listening.
I didn’t know that snow would grind the hooves. Wonder if it manicures corgi toenails too. Very glad you made it through without a fracture. Good aerobics, that trudging. But I avoid it.
I bet it would shape the Corgi nails if they could be out in the snow all of the time . 🙂 Yes, I am walking everyday, but still am quite careful. I forgot to mention I am wearing my Alaska cleated boots! I wear them everyday now through this type of weather. And, I guess you heard- we have more snow on the way. It’s similar, snow wise, to several years back…too similar.
Another lovely tale, Sher… I love how you go walking with your donkeys – and that little description of how you swish your arm behind you to tell Chippo to back off, and of how you step off the path sometimes – it all makes it so vivid!
Thanks Reggie– for some reason I did not get notification that you had commented, but I am seeing your comments now. I’m really glad you are enjoying the littlest lives of life from the farm. 🙂