Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Quiet trails

We rarely say a word when riding.

Perhaps it’s because we’re getting hard of hearing, or perhaps because there is often a string of pack horses between us. No matter. We don’t need to speak. We can spend 2, 6 or 10 hours on the trail, and find there is little that has to be said, few things that can’t wait until we are done for the day and can sit down together and enjoy the conversation.

From time to time on the trail, I’ll take a look back and smile, and get a warm smile in reply. What else do I need? There are no hand signals, no pointing. Our hands are tied up with reins in one and the lead rope of the pack string in the other. If there is something special worth sharing, all it takes is a tip up of the head to point something out, and a nod down to acknowledge. We’ve done this long enough, spent enough time together, we can figure the rest out.

When we return to the ranch or to camp at the end of the day, unsaddle the horses, put them out to graze and then sit down to dinner ourselves, then we can talk. By that time, we have had time to consider what is worth talking about, what thoughts we’d like to share.

“Did you see…?”
“What did you think about …?”
“We need to plan a day working on that section of trail…”
“My horse…”
“I was cold.”

I think of our son, now almost 16, who has been raised this way, as comfortable in the saddle as he is in the silence, without need for or understanding of small talk. Blessed with time to think.

I suppose it’s quite different for a kid to be raised this way now a days. But you ask yourself, what would you rather teach your kids or your grandkids? How many of us have taught our children to be quiet? To listen? To be comfortable in silence, and contented in stillness? To observe nature, to reflect on the beauty around them, and to sense what is inside?

On the back of a horse, on a day on the trail, this is natural, it is easy. There is time to think, to see, to feel. These things a child can learn without you working to teach. The lesson can be taught subtly and simply. Just take them out on the trail, again and again…