Longing to saddle up this winter solstice…
Daylight savings time makes me grumpy. Just ask my husband.
I don’t see any purpose for these human meddlings with the calendar, particularly as it affects my ability to saddle up, ride my horses, and be outside. Neither do my horses.
But today is the winter solstice.
Here in the Northern Hemisphere it’s the shortest day of the year and the longest night. (Well, in the sense that the length of time elapsed between sunrise and sunset on this day is a minimum for the year. )
This winter solstice, I am looking out of my window towards the Rocky Mountain foothills and thinking of places like Iron Gate, Jack’s Creek, Round Mountain—the internal geography I carry around with me during these short, cold days. These are the high places my horses have carried me and my family in the sweet, green summers, where I have to sit a little taller in the saddle in a futile attempt to not be dwarfed by my surroundings. The backcountry would look foreign to me now, covered under a blanket of snow.
Did you know that "Solstice" is derived from two Latin words: "sol" meaning sun, and "sistere," to cause to stand still? Today, I’m feeling tired of being still. I’m longing to wander up those mountain trails.
Over at Nothing But Prairie and Sky, 19-year-old South Dakota cowboy Wacey, says it all―
It’s been 45 days since the snows have begun, I stare at the fire, and long for the sun, as the bitter winds blow through the mouth of the pass, I sit here and dream of the Buffalo Grass.
The ponies are shaggy, their coats have grown long, with their heads down they huddle, together as one, at the window my breath forms a mist on the glass, as I patiently wait for the Buffalo Grass...
For centuries, the Egyptians, Romans, Celts, etc. have viewed the Solstice as a time for celebration when they began to see the sun reviving and strengthening again.
I like that.
Guess I'll get out my saddle cleaning stuff and work on shining up that old saddle of mine. That's a good winter solstice afternoon type of job. Perhaps I'll spread the Forest Service maps out onto the living room floor in front of the wood burning stove and do a little planning. Or at least relive a few past glories.
You see, I'm waiting for the Buffalo Grass.
Flickr photo credits: Stephen.Andrew.smith
Sources: scienceworld.wolfram.com; Nothing But Prairie and Sky; religioustolerance.org
