last night. Perfectly calm with no breezes, temperatures hovering
around 70 degrees, clear starlit skies, and barely a mosquito buzzing.
In other words, ideal. So we decided to hike up to the top of our hill
after dark to catch the best view of our neighbor Mars before we brought
our Haflingers in for the night.
Mars was there to see, all right, orange and bright in the southeast
sky. But the Haflingers seemed to be afflicted by strange Martian
fever, or perhaps it was simply because we rarely wander out into the
field in the dark with flashlights in hand. There was no moonlight when
we were out --simply starlight and the far-off lights from Vancouver,
B.C. to the north and Bellingham to the south. The Haflingers started
running in the dark, kicking and snorting and bucking with the joy of a
starlit, Martian-lit summer evening. Only all we could see of the
Haflingers were their ghostly white manes and tails moving across the
fields, jumping and twisting and cavorting. Haflinger spirit horses
celebrating Mars coming close by (or perhaps simply entertaining their
astounded human family).
I'm sure in the alpine meadows of the South Tyrol, there must have been
some starlit moonless lights when the Haflinger herds would run
together, and all you could see in the dark was floating disembodied
white manes and tails. Perhaps that is what enchanted the mountain
peasants the most about their sturdy reliable equine companions--at
night they become spirit and light where there is none. They shine like
the stars, even from the ground, reflecting back the lights from the heavens.
Their magic never fails to amaze.
Emily
BriarCroft