Bubbles in the Puddles - Rain on Orcas Island

Yesterday we had showers, today it poured.  Ken and I sat on the window seat overlooking my dressage arena and it was raining so hard it made bubbles in the puddles.  I had never seen such a thing. We checked the rain gauge. Yup, it had rained buckets overnight. Our rain gauge said over an inch of rain!  How could we complain, after such a beautiful Indian Summer? It was 59 degrees out, so it wasn't even cold!  We needed the rain to make our Island green again.

Now, many people believe it rains here all the time. The truth of the matter is that is rains about half as much as it does in Seattle, or Manhattan, or North Carolina.  We get about 24 inches of rain a year in Deer Harbor. At the east end of the island they get about 28 inches of rain. On the Olympic Penninsulia, it can rain up to 200 inches each year, and for every mile that you go east from Anacortes, it generally rains one more inch. There are many pilots who have moved to Orcas Island, and what they all say is that there is a blue hole over Orcas.  We get just enough rain to have a green island and never any flies or mosquitos. After growing up on the east coast, I think I have found heaven!

Our rain is usually more like mist. For years I never owned a raincoat, I just wore wool or polar fleece. Even while leading kayaking trips, I never owned a raincoat.  But, today you needed one!

I don't want you to think I only go into the office when it rains, but that was where I was today.

While in the office, our daughter, Jeni and granddaughter, Trinity stopped in to give us Trinity's school picture and treated to some ballet moves!  We got an offer on a parcel of land, we had listed. Yahoo!  All cash - that was the good news. Ken had a date with our grandson, Caleb, to work on his Pinewood Derby car for Cub Scouts.

After work, I went to the market and as usual had several in-depth conversations while shopping. I must have been in there over an hour to get one bag of groceries! That is something I find so special about Orcas Island, all the little interactions, the rich conversations over the produce, at the post office, or library. In fact, it is not uncommon to stop your car in the middle of the road to exchange a few words with someone you needed to talk with, who was walking by. It's the web of interconnection that is so richly satisfying here.

As I drove home that evening, the sun came out briefly lighting up the trees. This often happens at the end of the day, an hour or two of sunshine, even on the darkest of days. About a mile from home, I saw Ken and Caleb walking down the road saving newts. Living next to a marsh there are thousands of newts that cross the road spring and fall. Walking with Ken then is very slow, as he has to carefully pick up and move all the newts to safety.  Caleb seems to share this passion.

Rescuing Newts

Our walks, this time of year

are interrupted - by Rough Skinned Newts

fearlessly treading ancient trails
back to water

now crossing the county road
littered with the slow
and the unlucky

I want to save each one
regardless of merit
so,
our walks go slow.

 

K.A.Wood

Black Elk's First Ride!

 Black Elk's first day on Orcas, just being together.

It's a long road from getting a horse out of the wild to actually riding him. First, he needed to let me touch him,  we had to become friends, and he had to accept me as his leader. He needed to learn I could be trusted.  I took it slow, no need to rush, I would not ride him for a year at least, as he was much too young.

What a huge change for Black Elk, from the mountains of Nevada, to the corrals in Utah, to a little valley on Orcas Island. At least he had horses in the next corral, and lots of hay. Nevertheless, I really felt sad for him, losing his life in the wild. I would try to give him the best life I knew how.

We spent a lot of time together, just hanging out, or my moving him around with body language. He was so attentive to every nuance. Eventually, I used a clicker and fine tuned lots of little communications. When he was not sure of what I wanted, he put his nose on the back of my hand and stood quietly, not nosing me, just waiting. I loved his quiet nature, and his intensity, and I loved watching him move. He would nicker each time I came out of the house, and snort if not sure of something new. Like my mustang, Rasacal, he was a talker!

Pretty soon, he was out of the round pen, and into the arena. He learned about lunging and leading.  Then, this summer we started walking the trails together, often at liberty without a lead rope.

 Now this was more like it, he says!

Then, we were ready. He seemed mature enough to be ridden, and I was anxious to begin!  The first ride is always so exciting. Well, actually it was so simple and so easy and calm. That is what I always try for, no big surprises, no big upsets.   I rode him in a halter, with a rope for reins. We walked around in a few circles, we turned, we stopped, we even side passed. Sounds rather dull even to me. No buck, no snort, no worries.

True to his name, it felt a bit like riding an elk, as his stride was so long and loose.

Many thanks to my young friend Abby for her help with my first ride.

Black Elk Comes Home to Orcas

We have mustangs. I was a horse crazy girl. Now, a horse crazy girl all grown up. We have adopted four mustangs over the past six years and Black Elk is my newest horse. He came from the Robert's Mountain Herd Management Area in northern Nevada, near the Shoshone Mountain Range. In the winter of 2008, there was three feet of snow in the mountains, and the horses were living on twigs and sticks, the snow too deep to find any grass. The BLM did an emergency gather. The wrangler said they smelled like Elk, not horses.

At 16-2 hands, Black Elk is an unusually large mustang. He looks and moves like a warmblood, like a dressage horse. Loose, long strides with his butt tucked under he is stunning at times!  I saw him on the Internet. He was being held in the BLM corrals in Delta, Utah, and when I called there, I ended up talking to one of the wranglers. Now, usually these are old crusty fellows, who like horses, not people. Now, usually they are not much on talking. Not this wrangler; Eric was young, computer savy, liked to talk and his wife Lisa, who did the PR was a great photographer. I wanted more photos..she sent them, I wanted to know more about this horse and he was willing to tell me. He started out with the statement "In the 10 years I have worked for the BLM, I have picked out two horses that I wanted, this is one of them." Why?" I asked? "Temperament", Eric says, "this horse has the best temperament, unruffled, and he's big, and he moves real easy-like."  He went on to say," I am also a farrier, and this horse has perfect feet and perfect legs." He'll stay sound. Oh....I was getting hooked but good.

"Does he really look like those photos?" I asked. His wife sent me some more. There were some where he looked like the awkward 2 1/2 year old colt he was, but not many. This is Black Elk in the corrals. This was not your average mustang, I knew, I'd been looking for this horse for years.

I really did not NEED another horse, not really, it's just that I never got to pick out my others, and this was a long standing dream. So, I gave it one last try, I told the wrangler, well  the corrals in Burns  will haul the horse 400 miles for me, and you're a long ways from Orcas. He said he'd meet me in Burley Idaho, if I wanted the horse. If I did not like him when I met him, he'd just take him back.  

That weekend, we hitched up the horse trailer and headed for Burley, Idaho. Nervous? It was like getting a mail order husband!  I was alternately ecstatic and sure I'd made a mistake. We drove to our favorite place in Pendelton and spent the night, ate at the Stetson steak house. The drive was beautiful in mid October, just about one year ago. By noon we had gone through Boise and were close to Burley. I thought well, maybe I call him 'Burley'. Then we were there.. standing in a small pen was a very laid back, very big, dark brown mustang.

What a beauty!

 

Well, you guessed it, we loaded him up and headed back west. He traveled perfectly, no bucking, moving around, eating hay as we barreled down the highway. In Baker City we stopped at the Majestic Hotel for dinner. What a great place to eat! The colt was so  quiet in the trailer, eating and drinking water, we decided to sleep in Baker City and finish our trip home to Orcas the next day.

We wanted to be home to unload him in the light, but that was not to be. So, he was unloaded in the dark, calm and quiet as if he'd done it all before.

Here is Black Elk in his new home, wondering what's next?