I have three fire horses, one, Hrimmi is a pinto, red and white. Another, Raudi, is red with a golden sorrel mane and tail. And the third, Tyra, is red with a darker tail. Of the three, Tyra is the real fire horse.

I call her the adventure horse. Her spirit isn’t fire like; rather, it’s a gentle and inquisitive spirit. She badly wants to go places and do things.

Tonight I took her for a walk. This was after I cleaned the pen and hauled two loads of manure and old hay and rotted ice up behind the hoop house. All the while she was in the small enclosure, watching me. I knew she wanted to get out, and though it was starting to get dark, I took her for a walk.

She was glad to get out. I let her run loose, and when she ran up driveways and checked out a few berms (too deep), I called her back, and when she came, rewarded her.

I remember taking her by herself to a centered riding clinic in Colorado – she had a wonderful time, though maybe not so wonderful when she was caught in her enclosure, in a hail storm. But after the storm let up, she calmly resumed eating.

And she had no problem being in an arena with much larger, seasoned, trail horses. She is pony sized so the other riders didn’t take us very seriously.

I am going to start working at home on Mondays, so I am going to have more time to ride all the horses, of course including Tyra.

And now it is spring, sort of. There is a small lake at the base of the pen, the area that runs into the pit. Either the ice in the pipe that leads out of the pit will melt on its own or Pete will somehow bust it up. Then the water and crap will gush out of there.

I am of course waiting for the geese to return. I read a book this winter by a fellow who followed the snow geese south and wrote about it. It wasn’t a great book – it was over laden with detail; all I could think was he took good notes.

Anyhow, the geese – I am looking forward to welcoming them back. And I would like to go and see the hawk migration count at Sheep Mountain this year.

There is a fellow who writes for the local newspaper, the Frontiersman, and he says he’s getting a permit to shoot sandhill crane. Now I ask you, why is he so intent on shooting migratory birds? He also wants to bag some geese. When I think that there’s something wrong with the world, I think of his kind.

Back to the fire horse. I pause. This is the year and I hope to take advantage of it by getting in a lot of riding time.

Now we got the weather. And we got the daylight. Finally.

Next: 95. 4/7/26: All Aboard the Concert Caboose