I hope this little essay, straight from the Garron's mouth, will make clear the meaning of this card in the Go Deeper oracle deck.
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There is mist on the hills this morning, but no rain. Down the glen where the people live I can hear them starting the land rovers and making a lot of noise. If I were a deer, maybe I'd be worried. If I were a deer I'd be headed somewhere where they'd never find me. Or maybe not. Maybe, if I were a deer I'd be ready to meet my end today, ready to move on...
Stalking ponies, or Garrons, near Ullapool. (Roger McLachlan)
Last night I ate the hay inside this fence and some grass, too, and all of the dead thistles in that one corner. Water from a bucket. I am impatient to get back to the pastures. Life is more interesting there.
In a little while the man called Archie will be here. He almost always comes first. We know each other. He'll brush me very fast and throw the deer saddle on me. I'll spend most of the day waiting, but I'll probably be carrying a stinking, heavy stag by afternoon. I am one of the strongest ponies, they say. How frightened I was of that job when I was younger. The smell of blood! My instincts told me that this was dangerous. Blood attracts predators. I see now that the only predators here are the men, and they treat me almost as one of them. I know that they will keep me safe, but I do wish they would wash that smell off me at the end of the day, or let me roll in the mud where the burn is wide and shallow. I roll and roll in this enclosure, but even if I get the stink off of me, then it is all around me. I am glad that there are other ponies here with me. I am friends with the one they call Meg.
Ah, here comes Archie up the track. He'll be here soon. Later I'll be dozing in my saddle, tied to the rail there. I think it will be sunny. Yesterday, I dreamt of sweet spring grass and the smell of spring mares. I feel sure that they will turn us out on the hill soon! We have a winter of snow and hay ahead before the spring comes again.
In a little while the man called Archie will be here. He almost always comes first. We know each other. He'll brush me very fast and throw the deer saddle on me. I'll spend most of the day waiting, but I'll probably be carrying a stinking, heavy stag by afternoon. I am one of the strongest ponies, they say. How frightened I was of that job when I was younger. The smell of blood! My instincts told me that this was dangerous. Blood attracts predators. I see now that the only predators here are the men, and they treat me almost as one of them. I know that they will keep me safe, but I do wish they would wash that smell off me at the end of the day, or let me roll in the mud where the burn is wide and shallow. I roll and roll in this enclosure, but even if I get the stink off of me, then it is all around me. I am glad that there are other ponies here with me. I am friends with the one they call Meg.
Ah, here comes Archie up the track. He'll be here soon. Later I'll be dozing in my saddle, tied to the rail there. I think it will be sunny. Yesterday, I dreamt of sweet spring grass and the smell of spring mares. I feel sure that they will turn us out on the hill soon! We have a winter of snow and hay ahead before the spring comes again.
Some of the men who walk with us are strangers. They smell odd and have loud voices. They look at the beauty of the glen with such wonder. Most of them stay near the land rovers, sometimes they come to look at me, slap my neck, fuss over the tying of their stag. I see the awe in their eyes. This place is strange to them, yet they are hungry for it. This is my home. I never leave. I see it's beauty all the time.
If you enjoyed this post, you might also like Sacred Stewardship.
My ears are keen, my breath is warm
A chapbook collection containing the short story The Wild Mare, plus four poems which share the theme of horses.
Size 8.5" x 5.5"
21 pages
$
8.00
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