archives
02/01/2007 - 03/01/200703/01/2007 - 04/01/2007
04/01/2007 - 05/01/2007
05/01/2007 - 06/01/2007
06/01/2007 - 07/01/2007
07/01/2007 - 08/01/2007
08/01/2007 - 09/01/2007
09/01/2007 - 10/01/2007
10/01/2007 - 11/01/2007
11/01/2007 - 12/01/2007
12/01/2007 - 01/01/2008
01/01/2008 - 02/01/2008
02/01/2008 - 03/01/2008
03/01/2008 - 04/01/2008
04/01/2008 - 05/01/2008
05/01/2008 - 06/01/2008
06/01/2008 - 07/01/2008
07/01/2008 - 08/01/2008
08/01/2008 - 09/01/2008
09/01/2008 - 10/01/2008
10/01/2008 - 11/01/2008
11/01/2008 - 12/01/2008
12/01/2008 - 01/01/2009
01/01/2009 - 02/01/2009
02/01/2009 - 03/01/2009
03/01/2009 - 04/01/2009
04/01/2009 - 05/01/2009
05/01/2009 - 06/01/2009
06/01/2009 - 07/01/2009
07/01/2009 - 08/01/2009
08/01/2009 - 09/01/2009
09/01/2009 - 10/01/2009
10/01/2009 - 11/01/2009
11/01/2009 - 12/01/2009
12/01/2009 - 01/01/2010
01/01/2010 - 02/01/2010
Broadside
Add Your Comments
Monday January 26 2009
There they were in the sunrise this morning, for the first time in three weeks: the Owyhee mountains, under clear skies, illuminated big and bold and bright, and looking much closer than their 6 miles away.
Emerging from hibernation, the Sun, the real thing, climbed over our southeast ridge, the light and warmth creeping down from the mountains toward us, spreading across the northwest ridge and down Pickett Creek Canyon.
The horses took up positions broadside to the sun, facing magnetic north, fuzzy winter coats absorbing the maximum rays and the delicious, intoxicating warmth. Yawns, hind legs cocked, heads heavy, eyes closed, lips drooping.
When a thin cloud strip passed in front of the sun, the intense rays faded; so too did the hypnotic morning Sun Nap. The horses turned away from the penetrating rays, went back to the hay feeder, even as the sun reemerged full strength - the magic moment had passed.
