Dream, Reach, Share & Fuzzy Faces

Prairie Lonesome with her friendship group

The last couple days have been busy, trying to see what we can in the Black Hills area of South Dakota.  A cabin that is charming, but without internet access, is a nice break and it’s a great excuse to go to Legion Lake Lodge where they have Wi-Fi, the staff is welcoming, and the Kansas City chef is turning out awesome food.  So, over a lunch of a fabulous chicken noodle soup and a chicken salad sandwich, it’s a great time to post a little update.  

Tuesday was a day of dream sharing at the Black Hills Wild Horse Sanctuary.  You can read the more detailed account of the Sanctuary at www.gwtc.net, but I want to provide a short version of what this place is and how it got started.  Twenty five years ago, a rancher was out looking for cattle when he saw wild horses gathered into feed lots.  These horses, built to run in wide pastures, were hemmed into very tight spots and were being maintained but no more.  These native horses are rare and protected by federal law.  But, what do you do with them?  Most towns can’t handle a herd of wild horses running down the street; instead they were gathered into feed lots to be maintained – a sight that broke this rancher’s heart.  He had a dream of seeing the horses run free; able to be wild and living healthy lives out in the open.  Dayton Hyde, the rancher, did not leave this at a dream.  Instead, he engaged in a fight with the government to be able to open a sanctuary for the horses.  It took three years of work to make this dream come alive, many battles with naysayers and doubters, and many months of fence building to hold the original herd.  After the first four miles of fence were up, the first herd of horses arrived.  Some new horses are still arriving today.  Now, the sanctuary is spread out over several thousand acres, and provides homes to mustangs, paints, quarter horses, a retired Marine horse, and a few of the extremely rare Choctaw horses.  Dayton Hyde had a dream, reached for it, and then shared with others.  Today, a staff works to maintain this place for the horses and to share the stories and the horses with visitors.

Painted Desert's blue eyes

On a tour with a "retired" rancher, Mark, to see the horses, the view of the ranch included wonderful views, turkey, meadow larks, a burrowing owl, and of course the beautiful horses.  Out enjoying their morning breakfast, tails and manes were blowing in the wind, a welcome relief to blow off the flies.  The buffalo grass is stubby and looks like it would be a thin meal.  Mark assured me that it actually contains a lot of nutrition for the animals eating off of the land.  Loving the horses and the land as he does, it was a great chance to see this special place through a rancher’s eyes.  Small white Easter lilies and bright yellow pea pod flowers are starting to bloom on the grasses, lending polka dot patches of color to the grass and sandy soil.  The horses roam in their pastures, beautiful and able to run as they would like within their sanctuary area.

It is such a beautiful spot, but even more of a landmark to me as this was a dream that was given life and took off, through hard work and hard times, good work and good times.  It is the belief of a dream that is reached for and shared with others, a very powerful thing.

Black Bear on the logs

The fuzzy faces of bears were a highlight yesterday.  Bear USA is home to dozens of beautiful black bears.  Round bellies, shiny coats, and stretching off the long winter’s sleep, the bears are roaming in their habitat.  One splashed in a pool, especially when another bear offered to get in.  Another found a spot that would be the perfect nap spot in the sun, tucked into the intersection of a few large logs and snoozing happily away.  I had to share just a quick photo because even though these are extremely powerful animals and quite wild, they look just adorable with their fuzzy faces.  Just like great big teddy bears....

Tank the Grizzly Bear

In the Land of Buffalo

Yesterday, travels took me from Norfolk, Nebraska to Custer, South Dakota.  Passing through on Highway 20, small towns would pop up and then disappear again.  In the more thriving communities, little restaurants, crowded with locals thus denoting the presence of good food, appear in the downtowns.  Gas stations, a general store, an auto parts place, and granaries are the most common monuments to a population.  In between these places where between 30 and 3,000 gather and call home, the grasslands sweep.  The heart of Nebraska, not the land of the flat fields some might imagine, holds miles of cattle country.  Dotted with herds of cattle, horses, and a few trees, bluffs create complex patterns of light and dark – playing with shadows created by the spring sun. 

This is an austere land.  It is not the gentle slopes of the Appalachian foothills or the relaxing sounds of the river slapping against the shore.  The wind whips through the grasses, moving them like a sea of reeds.  Snow is making its last stand against the warmth of the earth and sun by melting so slowly into the soil.  Cattle gather around feeding troughs, and windmill powered water tubs.  New spring calves follow their mommas, close enough to run to the safety and comfort of her side, and yet far enough to do a little exploring of their new world.  Farmers and ranchers are out working on repairing fences, helping with the birthing of spring calves, and preparing fields for the new growing season. 

Rocky buttes start showing themselves, severe and beautiful testimonials to the strong bones of the land.  Pines adhere themselves to little soil, forming braided roots that cling to the anchoring materials.  Growing so slow and powerful over the rock itself to split and move the surface away for new growth.  Craggy bluffs and box canyons hold hiding spots for the antelope, and wayward cattle that simply don’t care to participate in the cattle drives.  Antelope, their white and brown coloring stands out to the eye as a color slightly out of place.  One, then two, eleven, fifteen – there they are out among the cattle.  Horse tails are caught in the wind and blown aside softly, creating beautiful images of how the wind moves.

This land was once filled with herds of buffalo.  They moved along the grass lands and created a dark contrast of color from the light prairie grasses and their coffee colored fur.  Decorated with the seeds of different flowers and painted with the red mud on their hooves and heads from scratching on the ground, I can imagine them sallying forth across the land, moving in groups of thousands.  It is the land that supports strong animals, ones that can survive and thrive in severe conditions.  I am in the land of buffalo. 

Grass in the Sidewalk

I was walking up the hill to the car and it struck me that the grasses growing in the cracks of the sidewalk had withered to a very dead shade of plant burned brown. Just a few weeks ago, these plants were bright green and growing quite well. Yes, I know that sidewalks shouldn’t have grasses growing up in them without breaking the concrete eventually. I just remember noticing them because they were such a bright green.

The thing that really struck me as I continued up the hill was that I can empathize with those plants. Though this is not where I am currently at, I realize that just like those plants in the sidewalk, too much heat and not enough water makes me wilt. I need inspiration, time, quiet, noise, music, friendship, laughter, and love. I recognize that just like eating properly requires decisions and effort, so does growth. You can’t just toss out a long term goal of growth or change without planning some steps and how you will continue to re-invigorate your purpose along the way. Otherwise, you wind up just like the grass in the sidewalk, leaves dropped to the pavement, brown, and dry.

Meant to Move

A few days after a trip, with a stormy night making yesterday feel even longer, about three o’clock in the afternoon I wanted to go home and go to bed, getting some sleep. Oh sleep!!! Where is my bed? Can I just lie my head down on a conference table someplace? A banana, nearly green like I like it, and a glass of water helped. But, I knew that when I got home from work that I would need to help mow. I don’t really mind mowing on days like yesterday, with a nice breeze and without it being very hot. In fact, it’s good exercise and thinking time.

Pulling into the driving, my head was set back against the headrest. The door opened, the warm air rushed in and I just sat there. Oh, I just want to sleep. Must change clothes, must put on tennis shoes…must go hug the pillow and curl up for a quick nap. The curling up lasted seconds, the mowing started. With a water bottle tucked into my pocket, I headed out to mow. At first, my feet were dragging along with my sheer force of being forced too. Continuing on it became easier, energy came even as the grass grew shorter.
We are meant to move. We gain energy with movement, exercise, exertion. It seems contrary and rest is certainly an important and necessary thing. Progressing along, stirring in our path, we are meant to move. Step out and let’s dance down the path, or at least make ourselves finish the mowing.

The Greener Grass

The Greener Grass

Have you ever heard that expression that the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence?  This looks pretty good, but over there in that yard they have had a lawn service and wow is it lush and so green.  I could just walk around in that barefoot for hours and it would feel so good…

I think that there was a mom once upon a time that dreams of greener grass for her songs.  “Then the mother of Zebedee’s sons came to Jesus with her sons, and kneeling down, asked a favor of him,” (Matthew 20:20).    Here was a mom who had an idea of greener grass.  And, really – who could blame her?  She has caught the idea of Jesus as the son of God and wanted something great for her sons. 

“‘What is it you want?’ he asked.  She said, ‘Grant that one of these two sons of mine may sit at your right and the other at your left in your kingdom.’”  This is a mom who wants greener grass for her sons and perhaps for herself. 

Jesus points back the spotlight onto her own grass.  “‘You don’t know what you are asking,’ Jesus said to them.  ‘Can you drink the cup I am going to drink?’  The grass, it’s not so green right here.  In fact, it’s full of moles, thorns, and weeds.  Don’t walk barefoot because your feet are going to get cut!  But, that grass still looks really good and green, so the answer comes. “‘We can.’”

What cup is that?  In this case, the cup is the acts in the coming days, the terror and horror of each moment.  Instead, the reply came, “‘You will indeed drink from my cup, but to sit at my right or let is not for me to grant.  These places belong to those for whom they have been prepared by my Father.’”  Sorry, that grass isn’t for me to share.  I am respecting the authority of the one who owns the grass. 

The grass, the perception of something better, it’s not such a bad thing.  Yet, in this case there was a loss of focus in yearning for the green, the better.  Sometimes, you have to take stock of your grass realistically and learn first to work and remove the weeds through hard work first. 

I think we all do that sometimes.  And not necessarily for things, but sometimes for situations.  Wow, I would love to have that family, home, relationship, child, job, opportunity, skill, education, dream, ability, etc…  I wish I could have that kind of patience, faith, hope, trust, love…  I can’t say that I have ever yearned for the right or left hand of God in his kingdom.  But, there are other things I have wished, pined, ached for.  Yet, the cup, the path, that God has prepared for me is a special one, a unique one.  I need to trust that the grass is just the right patch of grass for me right now.  Dig in, weed, and make it as best as I can.