And on it, a horse fended for itself, all alone, finding fetid water to drink in the diminishing ponds, and some native grasses to eat, whatever could grow with little rain. Subsequently, Clay came upon the horse, and recognized it as one he had known on that old, abandoned ranch years ago. He had named the horse, "Festus," for its recurring festers.
Clay brought his own horses to that abandoned parcel of land, and Festus joined them. They are a sight to see, for this city gnome, they always are. Today, they surrounded my truck as I visited them. How I wished to have some nibbles to give to them! Festus slowly approached, dear horse, and I promised myself to stop by the shop for some morsels to bring him.
This is Bird, I think, who began his life as "Thunderbolt,"
later changed to "Thunderbird," and finally to "Bird."
The colt Clay owns for his children to ride.
I like the reflection of the sun bouncing from the silver paint on the hood onto its cheeks.
Sniffing for food in the bed of the truck, or just characteristically curious.
"Did you find any food?" "No, did you?"
They came to my window to sniff my hand.
And this is Festus, the golden horse shown below.
He is in better shape now, under Clay's care.
The other horses treat him gently.
(Apologies for cutting their ears off; iPhone photo
so I couldn't compose very well in the bright sunlight, unable to see the screen.)
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