A new weather system lies at the horizon, a phalanx of clouds blocking the view. A small ribbon of light lies between the storm lingering overhead and the one moving steadily toward us.
The one moving toward the country is likewise only hours away, and among the clouds swirling around it, there is less light to be found, although there is plenty of wind.
Our task will be to learn to use the wind and the lack of light — under cover of their dark fury, to turn them to good purpose.
Wings and I spent much of yesterday with the horses; climate change has wrought havoc with the winter weather, which wreaks its own havoc in turn with the horses’ well-being. The unseasonal warmth coupled with drastic swings in temperature and weather have turned the earth to mud; all three combine to turn this into a time of colic and thrush and founder. They require extra attention now.
They also have much to teach us.
Give a horse food and water and the company of his herd, and he will be mostly happy. Oh, in any communal environment, including non-human ones, there are structures and there are orders of dominance, mostly biologically-driven, but horses do not tend to worry overmuch about the concepts and accoutrements of authority, which is what bedevils us so. They are mostly content to enjoy what humans dismissively call “the simple things”: to lie upon the warming earth in the sunlight, to run unfenced with the wind through mane and tail. They are powerful creatures, and yet their exercise of that power is relatively rare.
They are also adaptable. There is some truth to the axiom that “every horse wants to run free,” and yet, they have evolved to depend upon, and even to enjoy, the company of humans in addition to their own instincts to travel in herds. Our own are never happier than on those days when they are granted unfettered access to the fields . . . and yet, they return to the open pen of their own accord.
Horses thread a needle that too often stymies us: They are wild free spirits, but thoroughly pragmatic, too.
And in days such as these, we need to be both.
Perhaps that’s why today’s featured work speaks to me particularly on this day: a small spirit cup made of the Pueblo’s micaceous clay, small enough to hold in the palm of one’s hand — one from which a wild horse made of earth and light emerges, mane and tail flowing behind, the very symbol of freedom and yet thoroughly, utterly grounded. From its description in the Other Artists: Pottery gallery here on the site:
This vintage-style mug by Jessie Marcus (Taos Pueblo) is made in the traditional fashion, to be cupped in one’s hands like those used ceremonially. Hand-coiled of micaceous clay, it features a horse’s head extending from the rim, the tail flowing down the opposite side of the mug.
Micaceous clay
$125 + shipping, handling, and insurance
In these days when those who would presume to lead us turn away from the world’s needs to serve their own interests, interests focused deliberately on the marginalization and subjugation of specific “others,” we can learn a lot from the horses. They are, in many ways, much wiser than we. They know the value of community, even as they decline to look for someone else to do the work of saving them. Instead, they have learned to value the earth and sky, the wind and light, and the fiery warmth that comes both from running free and solitary in the sunlight and from closing ranks and standing strong together against the cold and the dark.
On this day, it is time for us to do likewise.
~ Aji
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