|

3 August ~2008

Yesterday I helped Constance lead a nature walk for children at El Dorado Canyon State Park.  At the start we had all been chatting about bears, after we came to some ripe chokecherries and wondered if the bears will be visiting the bushes at night.   That conversation lead to who has seen a mountain lion, and eventually to a discussion about rattlesnakes, which Constance has seen on the trail we were headed to.

As we started up the trail I was telling the children about all the rattlesnakes I saw when I was young, in the chaparrel of California.  One of the kids said that must have been scairy, and I started to reply that the ones that were scairy were the snakes that didn't rattle to let you know they were there.  I had not finished this thought when I looked past Constance who was facing me and saw a rattlesnake on the rocks, three feet behind her, who had not rattled.   I said  'rattlesnake'   and stepped forward to hold her shoulders and guide her to safety.

It was a beautiful snake,  and the children on our walk were very excited about it.  I said that is the great thing about walking in nature, is that you never know what you are going to see - that each day has its own special beauty, and in some cases, adventure.

On the way back down the trail the snake was still there, and I told the children rattlesnakes are not like other snakes in that instead of laying eggs to have babies, the mothers have their babies via live birth.  

It could have been a coincidence that I was talking about rattlesnakes who hadn't rattled right when I saw one, dangerously close to my friend.  But I have always felt those who spend a lot of time in nature and open their heart to the rhythms of the earth can acquire a sixth sense that on occasion is revealed

After El Dorado Canyon I went over to Horse Rescue to work until evening.  
I set into digging out some posts to enlarge the hole and cement them in.  I was on my knees working on the hardpan clay when I heard a soft voice above the wind call 'jim.'   I looked around and didn't see anyone.  I heard it again and stood up and saw that Dianne was limping towards me.  I went to see what the matter was and she said the horse she was riding got spooked from the wind rattling some boards.  She rode out the first blowup, but on the second one she was thrown down.

I asked if she was ok and she said she thinks so, Nothing feels broken.  She asked if I would go tell the ranch manager that a horse is loose.

I ran through the barn and to spread the word on what was going on, and then found Dianne's mount down by the mare's pasture, which is where Dianne had said she ran towards.  The horse was upset, but stayed put as I approached to grab its bridle.

By then Debbie, the ranch manager had pulled a utility vehicle behind us to block the mare's exit in case she had run.  Dianne limped over and we again checked to see if she was ok.  She was shook up a little, but thought she just had a bruised calf.  I said it might be sore in the morning, but maybe ice and Bengay would help tonight.  

This kind of stuff can happen so fast with horses, and it's rare to find a person who has been around them very long who hasn't had some sort of injury.  

I went back to my work and kept and eye on Dianne who had walked her horse back to the spot it had trouble.  Again the horse shied, but Dianne was able to control it on the ground.

I was thinking what a tough and brave woman Dianne is.  She is also very sweet, and the curse of being so old came to mind, which is just the way it  is - too many years between us.

About then a duststorm came up and blew loose soil across the ranch for several minutes.  It has been a damn hot summer.



    700px     1400px