Wild Horses of the Ozarks
Eminence, Missouri, with a population of around 600, is home to about 50 wild horses. The general consensus regarding the origin of these horses is that their ancestors were domesticated horses who were set free during the Great Depression by farmers who could not afford to feed them. These beautiful horses are free to roam the fields, river banks, creeks and woods of Shannon County.
Of the 4 herds I am aware of, I found 2 during the 48 hour time frame I was there: The Broadfoot Herd and the Shawnee Creek Herd. Although the Round Spring Herd kept eluding me, I found out they were being seen daily by park rangers and maintenance workers. I look forward to a return trip when I can spend a little more time trying to catch those Round Spring horses and also venturing out to find the Rocky Creek herd too!
The majority of my images contained in this blog represent the Shawnee Creek Herd. I saw one baby among the herd of 10. This group was a dependable group to find, grazing in the field at the end of county road 211. I pulled up a patch of grass and sat with them to enjoy their presence and the warm sunshine. For the most part they ignored me except for a couple of occasions where a couple of them marched right toward me, curious I suppose as to who this person was behind the clicking machine. I immediately got up and walked away from them, all the while explaining to them that I cannot let them get near me. They halted their movement toward me, stood and looked at me, as if stunned and indignant that I would dare to refuse to satisfy their curiosity.
Anyone other than a horse lover would quickly tire of watching the horses graze and shake off the dozens of flies and insects that pelted their faces. But I could (and did) sit for hours listening to the sound of the 'squeak' made by the long tall grass, wet from the morning dew, being plucked between their teeth. I swatted at the same insects that swarmed my face and eyes. I watched with interest as they lined up, all facing the same direction except for a horse at each end of the line, seeming to serve as bookends. Every now and then they would walk a circle, reminding me of a kind of synchronized dance like something you would see at a horse show. It seemed the baby among them always stayed safely tucked between its mama and another mare. Many times you would not even know there was a baby among them, it was so well hidden.
The morning of the fog created a surreal experience for me. When I got to the Shawnee Creek field and saw the dense fog, I was a bit disappointed, thinking that even if the horses were out, I wouldn't be able to see them through the fog. It was just before sunrise and the fog hung low and thick. I walked my normal path, the perimeter of the field. After a few minutes I saw white dots glowing like headlights in the fog. They caught me by surprise and I startled them as well. They all popped their heads up and a few of them trotted curiously and bravely in my direction. All of this excitement lasted for about 3 minutes. That's the thing it seems, about this herd that I have noticed: They perk up and get excited but it quickly fizzles out and it's back to business as usual, with their noses to the ground, doing what horses do.
The fog draped the landscape perfectly, creating a moment where the rest of the world seemed to disappear, leaving me standing in a cloud of wonderment: the blurred landscape before me and the almost abstract shapes of the horses peeking through the fog took my breath away. There was an underlying feeling of uncertainty and of the unseen but at the same time an overriding feeling of peace. No one and nothing else existed in the world and nothing else mattered except this moment. The fog drew the curtain to keep out the rest of the world and that was fine with me. When these moments present themselves I feel privileged to be included and I soak it in, sealing it in my heart to be carried with me from this day forward.
I was happy to find the Broadfoot herd out in their field in the later part of the morning. There were 12 horses in this herd, 2 of which were babies. Much to my dismay, they were on the far side of the field. My view from the gravel road was a little comical to see only horse heads skimming the surface, the rest of their bodies hidden by the tall grasses. I had to push through the tall grass to get close enough where they were in range of my 400mm lens. When I finally got to them I felt as though I had swam, as my clothes were wet and my hiking boots - which, to my surprise, were not waterproof- were filled with water!
I was prepared to get tail shots as I figured they would take off running as soon as they saw me. But instead they ran toward me- heads high and ears perked- alert and curious. It was a lovely sight to see all 12 of them trotting single file through the tall grass. It seems their curiosity was satisfied, they felt assured I was of little significance to them and they resumed their grazing.
It is always a good day when I head back for the night dirty, stinky, and sweaty. I feel tired but energized, satisfied but wanting more, content with my day's work but eager to get out with the wild ones again.
