WILD HOPE

When Domyno completed her twenty-seven years of life, I searched for a different word than died. What came was completed—a word that held grief and gratitude together and helped me see how a full life can continue through the stories still being written.

Twice, my plans for one horse were interrupted. Both times, a year later, a black foal stood beside her.

Sometimes ordinary errands on the ranch become unexpected encounters that change a moment, and sometimes even a life.

One night, coyotes came through the pasture. By morning, one small calf was still alive, but badly wounded.

One summer morning, our mares formed a quiet circle around one of their own. Even our stallion wasn’t invited in. What unfolded became an unexpected lesson about presence, protection and the strength in standing together.

When one of our mares vanished into the woods, worry was quick to follow. But, I remembered a saying from my grandmother that gently shifted my perspective from fear toward wonder.

Two young horses stood quietly together in the pasture. One could see. The other could not. What I witnessed that day became a quiet reminder that sometimes the greatest gift we can offer another is simply our presence.