Good Morning

We should never take miracles for granted. Each precious life is unique. Like the birth of a star, that we see from afar this soul has a mission to seek. She will ask the questions and show the way. to help us see life anew. This huge gift she offers with all of her heart. Now that… is a miracle too. ~ Kim McElroy

"Good Morning" (Detail) Pastel by Kim McElroy

The Dude Ranch and the Pregnant Mare

As my friend Jody and I drove into the small town of Dubois, Wyoming, for our dude ranch adventure, I thought about the path that had brought me here.  Jody had invited me to join her on a trip to Bitterroot Ranch.   I was looking forward to the experience. Though I’m not an avid rider, I thought the environment would give me an unparalleled opportunity to photograph horses in beautiful, natural surroundings.  Little did I know the blessings the horses themselves would bestow.

From the first, I had noticed a large, pregnant Percheron Mare pastured with the ranch’s smaller Arabian mares near our cabin.  The foreman explained that the owners had bought her to breed to their Arabian stallion to raise some larger horses to be ridden by larger guests.  When I asked if I could approach her, he cautioned that she was unpredictable and afraid of people.

The Arabian mares had foaled several weeks before, and despite the company of the other mares, the Percheron mare seemed lonely and kept to herself.  I watched her and wished I could befriend her, but she avoided me when I approached.  Nevertheless, I waited each day, hoping I would witness her new foal being born.

Experiences at the ranch led to inspiration and insights that are shared in my other blogs. But this experience stands on its own.

Awakening to a Blessing

On the morning before the day I was scheduled to leave, I was awakened at 6 am by magpies screeching out my window. At first I was slightly irritated at the abrupt awakening, so I tried to go back to sleep, but then I realized that I had been dreaming of the mare foaling.  As my mind registered the dreams, I suddenly knew I had to see the mare.  I hoped that the magpies were the messengers of the foal’s arrival.  I jumped out of bed, stuffed my bare feet into my boots, threw a jacket over my sweats, grabbed my camera, and hurried to the nearby pasture.

The day had dawned unseasonably cold and the air was filled with the insistent drizzle of rain.  Through the dim, grey light I could make out a tiny form laying next to the huge mare.  I got as close as I dared until I could make out the newborn filly.  The mare rose to her feet with effort and stood over the foal protectively. I wanted to wrap the shivering filly in my jacket, but I respectfully kept my distance.  I was captivated by the opportunity to witness the precious miracle of her new life.  I named her secretly, “Rain”. 

I watched for an hour until Rain wobbled to her feet and nursed.  This was the second foal I had seen just after birth. but the previous experience had been of a mare in a stall. Watching this mare and foal was akin to witnessing a wild mare and her foal.  No other human intruded for those precious two hours.  The rain and mist surrounded us in a blanket of mystery, and all awareness of the mundane human world disappeared.  

I finally had to heed the protests of my numbed hands and feet and returned to my cabin.  At breakfast, I announced the arrival of the foal.  The hosts and the guests took this news in stride. They seemed practical about the event, and I realized they didn’t view the experience as miraculous as I had.

Connecting

Later that morning ,the sun came out and I went again to the pasture.  By now, the filly was tottering around inspecting her new world.  I approached gradually, stopping at any sign of tension from the mare.  Amazingly, she allowed me to approach. Rain looked at me with curiosity, ready to jump if I should do anything unexpected.  I touched her tentatively. Once she discovered that fingers were good for her itchy coat, she leaned into my vigorous scratches.  I reveled in the awareness that I was the first human to make contact with her, and I hoped that it would be a positive beginning to her new life.

I continued watching and taking pictures as the mare repeatedly nuzzled Rain.  I could see in my mind’s eye the way I wanted to compose a painting to capture my feelings for them.  Moments later the mare and filly touched noses exactly as I had imagined, as if they responded perfectly to my silent choreography. When I said goodbye to them the next day, I told them someday I hoped to return, to see them again.        

Creating the Art

Months later, when I began to compose the painting of the two horses, I recalled the magical morning.  The film was underexposed, but I remembered well the dim grey and muted green of the pasture and sky.  From the boxes of my pastels I selected some hues of the lavendar colors of the heather from the Wyoming hills, and blended the colors diagonally in my characteristic style. 

After the background was complete, I put myself in the present time, with them in the pasture again.  I recalled again how the mare’s mane was tangled and unkempt, wet with the morning’s rain.  Her eyes were soft, with a glimmer of joy in their depths.  One ear turns down toward the filly while the other listens carefully for any disturbance nearby.  Her nose is pressed against the filly’s in the intimate exchange of breath of a loving horse greeting. 

The filly. Rain, becomes still for that moment, returning the greeting, she lowers her long lashes and lays her ears back in an expression of concentration.  The memories of those moments, recreated themselves in front of my eyes, through my hands, in the timeless mystery of the process of artistic creation.

Because I had met them, creating the art allowed me to become even more familiar with them. Through the art I could almost reach out to touch them and relive that memory again and again, and share that special experience with others. I will always cherish the privilege of witnessing Rain’s new life, and the gift of the mare’s silent trust.  

When I mailed a photograph of the painting with the ranch owners and told them of the name I had chosen for the filly, they decided to name the filly Rain.  Since then, I was told, the mare also had another filly whom they named Cloud.

"Good Morning" Pastel