My mom and I stepped out into the chilly air. She muttered in distaste of the frost, while I smiled quietly to myself in joy. I love the late fall, winter, and early spring. You could say that the chilly weather tends to bring out the best in me. I stepped into my dad's muck boots. It was funny- it was like each foot had its own giant museum to go searching around in. I was falling all over the place, skipping through the puddles with those giant boots on (for an idea, I wear a size 7 in women's and he wears a size 10, 11, or 12 double wide in men's). The dogs romped about, enjoying the feeling of their paws sinking into the damp earth. This was the type of earth that was both forgiving and a backstabber- it would allow you to fall on soft ground but caused you to fall more often and easier because of the mud.

My mom helped me gather the hay up and we took it out to the horses, who were waiting by the fence. Cherish stood on the left side of the gate, surprisingly over by Finale. The two bay little girls both have such different personalities. Finale stood with her head up, over the fence, nickering at us and pawing the earth. Cherish stood behind her, almost hiding. She had her head positioned tensely, as if she wanted to put it low to hide behind Finale's butt but could not bring herself to do so because it was a vulnerable position. She sat with that empty look on her face in the mud, and I felt comfort in her quietness. Up the hay went, arcing over the fence. As it fell back over, a few pieces fell like snow onto the fence and stuck. I thought "What a pretty picture it would be to get the pieces of hay balancing on the fence like a circus lady on the tight rope or high wire (whichever you prefer to call it) and have a horse's muzzle in the background. As I walked to the right of the gate and threw another pile over, the little white star in the coming darkness followed. I watched her munch cautiously for a few moments, not really wanting to make eye contact with me. The gate chain clanged when I undid it and my mom slipped into the pasture with me to love on our girls.

I rubbed Hope's neck and down her blanket towards her hindquarters as I stepped around her. I whispered to her as I passed her back legs and then came back up a bit to rub her barrel- or the blanket at least. Cherish had raised her head to look at me at this point, and I stepped toward her slightly. She reached out he velvet nose, with hay dust still on the ends of her whiskers. I stepped forward again and offered for her to sniff my hand before I scratched her. She sniffed, then nuzzled... She rested her muzzle in the cup of my palm for a moment before going back to her hay. I smiled at this wonderful little horse, amazed once again at how I found her and brought her home. I smiled at the sound of her grinding the hay into tiny pieces, smiled at the strength feeling of her shoulders, smiled at the dew that was left on the end of each brown fuzz hair on her coat. She was going into winter very cute, with her fuzz sticking out straight everywhere as if someone had put her in a giant blow dryer. I was standing in Zone four now, rubbing in circles and pressing hard in certain places to make it feel like a massage. She turned her head back to look at me and blinked a few times. Her face was inquisitive, quiet, and slightly wondering about me. I whispered to her as I so often do, almost always an inaudible whisper. I whisper about all sorts of things- metaphors, writing, taking pictures, having pictures in my head without having them in a camera or on a computer, seeing her for the first time and telling her how I felt, talking about her pretty little hooves, speaking to her about what we're going to do today and what we will be able to do one day. Sometimes I ask her questions about her past, and she answers with a lick of the lips and her face at my shoulder, a very vulnerable place for a RBI. I wonder sometimes if they can actually understand what I'm speaking of... probably not, but we're only human. We don't know all the answers.

My mom is leaving due to the cold, and I would prefer not to be left outside in the dark. As I pass her I tousle her mane a bit, feeling each individual hair touch my fingers on each little ridge of my fingerprint. My sense of feel is very sensitive, and always has been. My sense of hearing is very sensitive and always has been. My sense of the world has always been very strong. My eyesight has always been "handicapped", but that's alright. Glasses and contacts aren't a hassle, they're just an everyday thing. It's necessary to see, therefore I will wear them.

I walked up to Finale, the last horse to say hello to. I walked up to her and she turned her head towards me, low and with her ears pricked. I greeted her with a sigh and a happy little whisper. She continued chewing immediately, and lowered her head once again. I walked toward her with the horseman's handshake and rubbed her whithers. She turned her head to sniff my back as I smelled her wonderful horsey smell. She had dew on every end of her fuzz as well, all tiny droplets being melted by the warmth of my hands. I brushed my hands over her again and again, just as a friendly game. I reached back farther and touched the top of her tail, lifted it and set it back down. The whole time she continued to eat with her leg cocked. Before departing I stood in her Zone 3 with my head low, leg cocked... resembling her stance as well as a human can. She looked at me again, blinking and ears pricked forward. I chuckled at her and whispered to her, then continued on my way out the gate. As I closed it I turned and looked at all three of our lovelies.