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blizzard warnings - 13:52 , 03 October 2013

heelerless - 21:32 , 18 August 2013

Red Coat Inn in Fort McLeod - 11:38 , 23 June 2013

rushing into the waters - 09:53 , 21 June 2013

choosing a spot - 17:43 , 27 April 2013

31 March 2003 - 21:17

harbingers of spring

They aren't supposed to be here.

We were in the checkerboard, taking a route home that was different than the route we took in to check sage grouse. In that 40-mile wide swath of land where every other square mile is private.

And there aren't supposed to be any feral horses in where there is so much private land.

Someone forgot to tell the horses.

The black stud was understandable. He was on our unit, the wildlife habitat area where our outfit owns all the deeded lands. And there's no fence on the north end, so nothing to prevent feral horses from wandering a little far south from where they belong. Which they do, from time to time.

But this other group, the herd on the Jawbone, they're not supposed to be there. Must have crossed a fence or two to get this far south. Or walked across a cattleguard filled with frozen snow and ice.

I like the dappled reds.

And there was a foal in the bunch.

A sure sign that spring is here. Suspect these animals will be gathered up and relocated before that youngster is full grown. Or sent out for adoption.

But I may be wrong. Maybe the private landowners won't complain.

As for Trinity's question as to why I hate these things so much, it has nothing to do with the horses. At least, not individually.

It has to do with them running all over the desert, beating out water holes, munching down the nesting cover for sage grouse, and eating forage that could just as easily be feeding elk.

Who belong here, whereas these unlicensed livestock do not. Especially with little or no control on their population size and number.

When we fly this entire desert and find over 1,000 feral horses in an area with less than 10,000 antelope, and only a few hundred elk, something is out of whack.

But in a sense of fairness, I felt obligated to allow the horses to express their point of view on my opinions:

As we drove farther south to the Interstate, found another harbinger of spring.

The white-tailed prairie dogs are out.

(Actually, they've been out for weeks. This is the first decent photo I've been able to get.)

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