It is common for the foals, from their first day, to traverse all of the rolling countryside where That Herd roams, even steep ascents and descents.
This duo popped up out of a deep canyon to an early sunny horizon. The filly is greeting her second day with sturdy determination.
After a morning of labor and birth, this mother needs to lie down and pass the placenta. Freed from her internal burden of several months and the bright morning sunshine, she is not easily roused. The foal, a filly, was energetic and bouncy right away and persistently and almost comically circled, nickered, and leaped about in an effort to unlock the mystery of her low mother.
I cannot seem to put into words how beautiful these little moments are. His journey has begun.
He has arrived safe and sound, but whoa, was he ever pooped from his journey. A bit of a slow start, but he is doing fine.
Sorry to disappoint you but this is an image of a newborn colt from last year. The first 2022 foal of That Herd has not arrived yet.
Shrouded in mist, the tall trees ghosted in the background, and wet from dew to our knees, both the foal and I considered each other. His mother was paying attention and was just out of frame but this new colt kept her on her toes. He was thrilled to explore and breathe deeply and tiptoe through the grass.
I challenge you to not feel better by simply viewing this image. Time spent outdoors experiencing natural settings, even in urban areas, has been proven to improve pleasant feelings, and reduce anger, stress, and depression. This particular outdoor experience was sweetened by the good-natured company of an audacious explorer.
I owe this colt his introduction and fifteen minutes of fame. Born mid April he has a little over eight weeks “on the outside” at the time this picture was taken in late June.
Considering it takes about forty-four weeks of “life on the inside” he has lots of maturing and preparations for success ahead in the next several months to match his gestation time.
A million changes take place. Amazing.
Day One of the journey.
Well done, flashy mom!
The birds hang around the horses because as they browse and graze they stir up the insects in the grass. The opportunistic birds use the horses as a perch and a meal ticket.
I think these birds are a variety of Starling. Around here, some people call them Cowbirds.
This mare has had a foal every year for many years. This is her first bay colored foal. Day one for this colt started foggy and wet in the first week of May. He was quite bold and active and kept his mother busy rounding him up and keeping him away from harm and too much distance.
Mission accomplished, no mother within several feet.
I secretly call them Wheaties and Dot.
Wheaties is a colt and Dot is a filly by the same stud.
Born within days of each other from mares that stick together, they spend a lot of their days together playing, grooming and roaming.
“I hope you will grow up gentle and good, and never learn bad ways; do your work with good will,
lift your feet up well when you trot, and never bite or kick even in play.”
– Anna Sewell, Black Beauty
In a few short weeks the foals grow at tremendous rates. In this environment, their courage, and analytical thinking make great strides as well as their physical development. Twenty-four hours a day they are exposed to a never ending sequence of decisions and behavior patterns that develop into sure-footed, quick thinking horses. They travel many miles each day and are constantly exposed to lessons in life. This colt is composed and alert, given to bouts of joyous romps. His mother is a gem.
“Magic isn’t somewhere else. It isn’t a series of distant rituals, ancient texts and expensive courses. Magic is turning to the world, and seeing it, … ”
–Alice Tarbuck, A Spell in the Wild: A Year (and Six Centuries) of Magic
What a pair! She managed what must have been a challenging birth. Look at the size of this little beastie.
I’m calling him Wheaties, for the cereal that famously highlighted strong champions on their box.
I missed his first hours and days but I have met the first colt of the year. A beautiful painted bay, he’s about a week old and has blue marbling in one eye. He strikes quite the soldier pose here. I chose this image to share because it’s different than the usual cuteness overload of new foals. His intense scrutiny of me lends me to believe he will be quite keen but cautious in the days to come.
No worries, I have cute overload pics too.
This image is of the the almost-four-year-old who appeared as a newborn in the preceding post.
He is a beauty, tough as nails, and has an interesting blue stripe in one eye to go with all that chrome. This image combines one of my trifecta ideals: Far away scenery, a massive interesting oak tree, and an amazing equine. The horses like to browse under the trees where the grass stays tender and grows taller due to the rich soil and shade. They will even step through, over, and onto the branches to reach the in-between places.
This is not the image I intended on sharing.
I chose a recent image of this colt, nearly four-years-old now, looking impressive on a hilltop. I thought I might also post an image of the colt early in his life as a comparison (because people like to see before and after imagery).
Seeing this image, in the moment I opened it, stopped me in my quest. Not because it was what I was looking for, but because it so beautifully illustrates a thousand of my favorite moments. I have logged a thousand early spring mornings with wet feet, breath ragged from a brisk pace, with electric energy fueled by mares so close to foaling, burdened by the weight of camera and lens, and before the ruthless foxtails have come to head. To then fall upon the discovery of a brand new life, such as this, in a glorious setting after days of nervous anticipation is a gift. Knowing a favorite mare is ready to give birth, to find them alive and well is a great moment of joy and pride (for the mare’s maternal success and fortitude). Seeing this image makes me ache to know my ability to duplicate this experience often this spring is not possible. I have a million captured moments such as this but it is in the entire experience within nature’s quiet brilliance that heals all that ails me.
The rare early hours of brand new life and nurturing are soon lost to the realities of the daily routines, lessons, and trials. How sweet those first hours are and what an honor it is to witness it.
“You pray for rain, you gotta deal with the mud too. That’s a part of it. … ” –Denzel Washington
tribute | ˈtribyo͞ot | noun 1 an act, statement, or gift that is intended to show gratitude, respect, or admiration.
This colt is on high alert when I am nearby, as is his mother, but he pauses in this moment to get a good look at me. It has been an uncommon occurrence to to be on this hilltop while the herd is browsing there. Obviously, the view is amazing, but the opportunities for a shot are few for several reasons. On this morning, I had marched over hill and dale to photograph a different foal but these two unexpectedly arrived from a different direction. Neither of them were thrilled to see me there, and they moved on to more private grazing.
I wonder if horses are capable of appreciating a scenic view? I know they appreciate having the extended visibility from hilltops and they seem to like standing with the breeze in their face lifting their forelocks, but I don’t know if they experience beauty.
I can imagine these images may be rather pedestrian to some viewers, but these little moments of horse life interest me. The simple act of walking through a gentle water shed stream, or what was likely the first time (or nearly the first time) for this young foal to leap valiantly over-obediently following his mother-feel like a privilege to observe. The horses get used to me hanging around, and because I don’t attempt to alter their movements or motivation, I get to join in on their adventures.
This colt quickly earned the name of Rasputin when I observed his aggressive and cranky behavior towards the other foals from his first days. He looked like a teddy bear but his aloof, single-minded solidarity to his mother and his demanding ways made him seem a bit wicked. He has since been quite unremarkable in any of his interactions when I am near, so I feel confident in knowing he was unfairly judged by me and has redeemed himself. Someday he will have a new name that defines any first impressions to all that would hear it in a more positive way.
Early on a March morning I was fortunate to be in the right place at the right time. Two mares had given birth a couple hours previous to my arrival. I love observing newborn foals and their million discoveries about life on the outside. During my quiet jubilation at my good luck, a third mare laid down and gave birth to a notably large colt without moving away from the herd for solitude, which is unusual. A perfect morning, cool and sunny and a little breezy allowed for a serene birth and initial 20 minutes of terrestrial time.
The first image shows the colt’s first successful standing moment. Because of his numerous attempts to rise and sort his long legs out to stand, some curious herd mates approached to investigate. The other mare in the sequence is a sweet mare who has been a doting mother in the past. This year, however, she would not be having a foal of her own. She becomes instantly taken by the vulnerable newborn and won’t accept the fact he is another’s baby. Grievously, the orientation of the wobbly foal was directly in between the ensuing aggressive assertions. He was tossed about and when the mares squared off and spun to kick each other with deadly hind hooves I had to intervene. Risking the safety and kidnapping of the newborn was not necessary since I could interrupt the situation. Motherhood instincts are strong and especially so in nature. I have discovered this type of stealing behavior is not rare in natural situations. In the wild, and/or when unmanaged, the outcome for the foal is fatal. Because these horses live in a free range, natural environment they have heightened senses of survival and their innate abilities are strong, but sometimes behaviors can still go wrong.