The Barn is A Balm

There is magic to the barn. I don't know if this is the same situation at every barn; I have found it difficult to relate to complete order and tidiness, to strict social codes, to any predetermined codes at all, really. Cheyenne grew up on this farm, and I think the stars aligned for me to end up there. Not just for Cheyenne. 

The thing about riding stables is that they inherently have a tight-knit community that can be really hard to break into for a variety of reasons. Sometimes they are snooty or extremely competitive and become cliquey and judgey. Sometimes, and this is my preferred barn, they are ragged and do-it-yourself and everyone involved with the barn is close because they’ve all created this thing together, they’ve watched their children grow up in the barn, they’ve become friends outside of the horse world, helping each other through life. Not to say there can’t be crossovers, but I’m not interested in going to a barn with intricately patterned brick aisles. I’m not interested in whose horse is the best or who is getting ribbons. I’m interested in learning and growing with an animal and feeling safe and cared about by the people I’m working with. 


But anyway—no matter what, it’s hard to break into. There are these 20+ year histories between many of the people. It’s not that a newcomer is inherently bad or frustrating, or threatening, instead it’s just that it’s not easy to absorb someone into something so big and complicated. That was my feeling, coming here. I was intimidated and afraid and knew from the start what kind of community I was stepping into. The beautiful thing is that these people want to include whoever they can, and they may have only known me a bit less than a year, but they’re really excited and proud of me whether it be that I finally got field boots or that I got a new, fancy job. Slowly I’m making bonds, often I’m feeling awkward or misplaced, but mostly I am insanely thankful to be a part of a place like this. 

To top it off, this barn is beautiful. There’s Something here, too, something very healing and comfortable and also a little wild. I love that the barn is made of wood that’s falling apart. I love the dirt floors. I try to take pictures of the view from the barn but it’s impossible to do it justice and that’s why I so badly want to bring friends there, because it always makes my heart stop. The mountains and the sky that goes forever. And you’re surrounded by lush fields and horses and trees. My horse is kept in a rather large herd which often has reign of a larger pasture. Sometimes this means a long walk to get her out of the pasture, but it’s become a zen experience where I have to be okay with a bit of a hike. One day I was doing this walk, and I came to a little stream that had formed after some rains and I realized I hadn’t been in the woods in a while. Even better, I really made myself look around and I then realized I’d never been in this situation before: There were horses walking with me across the river, saying hi in their own way. It felt magical, and I wish I could show you just how magical this place feels. 

Lately a barn visit isn't complete without spending time with any horse willing to get their neck scratched, watching a hen with chicks, snuggling a chicken (!) or observing some other wonderful little piece of nature happening casually, as it should be.