We’ve had a few great hikes in this area, which is rife with wildflowers when the time is right. Even though the time is right, the shots are from a few weeks ago, so we were premature, but the scenery was still fantastic. The rolling hills and idyllic greens make me think of Grant Wood’s other paintings or Don Quixote 5, the sequel Hollywood will surely make someday, where our hero wonders into the windmill hideout and all you can see is wind turbines all the way to the horizon.
As if placed there by Mr. Wood, we saw horses across the canyon dotting hills like poppy seeds on a dyed-green St. Patty’s Day Hamburger Bun. Little did we know it was foreshadowing. On the return leg of the hike, we noticed that we were coming upon 5 or so horses grazing just feet from the trail. We continued with caution. Upon closer inspection, we realized that all of these horses looked hungry, had no shoes and appeared very wild. Nothing gives me hope quite as much as inter-species cooperation. Heather and I started snapping photos and slowly inching forward.
We were all amazed at just how unafraid these horses were of us until we realized they were calmly grazing under bright white 200 foot wind turbines spinning at high speed. It was a very magical moment to spend with these horses, sharing the trail and a little space in the afternoon Sun. We’re heading back to go Northbound now that this desert is covered in a fleeting quilt of wildflowers that if not savored, dissolves for another year into the khaki tans and browns of the Mojave desert branch of Abercrombie and Fitch.