by R.T. Fitch
Perhaps I may need to consider calling such interludes “Look Back Sundays” as contemporary computer apps, such as Amazon Prime Photos and Facebook, are relentless in sending messages like,”You have memories with Terry Fitch from 7 years ago today”, or “See what you were doing on this day in 2012” and being a bit of a sentimental sap I can’t resist looking back and reflecting on all that has been good in our lives.
I am a firm believer in the notion that each and everyday we are constructing memories that we will carry forward and play in our hearts over and over again as we struggle to find our niche in this complex and continual evolving world around us. Those memories are our anchor on reality, our hope for an improved life.
When I reviewed the video that is shared, here, today it does not bring me back, so much, to the beauty of these wild horses in Outer Mongolia but instead the cleverness and insight of my wife who found this herd, when no one else could, out on the windblown steppes of Outer Mongolia.
Terry and I, both amateur explorers and trek freaks, traveled to the other side of the world to track on horseback and study the effort to bring back from the brink of extinction the wild Takhi of Mongolia as they had all but disappeared due to the bloody intervention of man and it is our belief that we may be facing the same situation in North America with the bumbling and brutal intervention of misguided governments stepping in and attempting to mismanage wild horses and burros who need little to no management at all…
But with guides and a translator in tow we trekked for a day trying to locate a herd to photograph with no success. We tried to track, we followed poop trails, we did everything and as that day, back in July 2012, began to fade Terry looked at our guides and asked, “Where is the water?”. It was just that simple, “Where is the water? We will sit and wait as they will come. It is the end of the day and they will come to the water.”
Profound and spot on, I was shocked. We found a small stream around the back of a mountain and simply sat in the grass and watched the high country above us, we simply waited. And as time passed the very rocks on the slopes of the surrounding peaks and hills began to move, they slowly started to descend to the valley and the stream. As they came closer the rocks developed legs and it was evident that the horses were on the move. Their coloring was identical with their surroundings rendered them invisible but once down on the green grass we knew we had hit the mother-load of wild horse observation reality. It was magnificent.
So to my wife Terry and all of her talents, both hidden and obvious, I tip my hat this day and thank her for an experience that I will never forget, communing with the Wild Takhi of Mongolia.
Keep the faith, my friends.
Categories: Horse News