Dispatch #20 - My Evening With the Stallion

A (very) short story.

We made eye contact just as the last sliver of sun had dipped below the ridge. I had been wandering through a maze of sagebrush, pointing my camera in the general direction of west and north, studying shadows and watching the light slip upwardly along Granite Mountain.

Goodbye sun, I quietly remarked and then turned toward the east.

That’s when I saw him.

Across the valley floor, a few hundred feet away, was a wild mustang. He was standing there motionless, like a statue, his head hanging in a posture that made him appear to be in a state of gratitude, as if he too had been appreciating the sunset. I was startled at first, not accustomed to seeing an animal five times my size. I scanned the surroundings for others, but he was as alone as I was.

The color of his coat was an arresting blend of tan and faded copper and his black mane and long flowing tail were the same color as his eyes. His features were both ruggedly handsome and surprisingly delicate. His thighs and chest showed brute strength, his cheeks and attentive ears revealed more tender curves. We stared at each other for several minutes without movement.

When I began taking slow, careful steps toward him, he began taking steps toward me. When I stopped, he stopped. When I moved forward, he moved forward. It was a slow dance I hadn’t expected and couldn’t have imagined. Not knowing the protocols around wild horse behavior, I started judging the distance between us and the distance between myself and my van in case things went awry. This was my first rodeo, if I may.

When he got distracted by whatever it was he started eating, I quietly headed back to where I had set up camp for the night. With the temperature quickly dropping, I traded in my camera for a winter jacket. A series of small boulders were nearby, so I climbed up to the top and sat down to see how my evening with the stallion would end. And as the stars began making their appearance and silence settled over the landscape, I watched him standing there stoically until the the last flicker of light gave out and my eyes could no longer see him.

In the morning he was gone.