Winter solstice. Winter begins. Cold and darkness begin. Time of heavy coats, for me, for my horses. We trudge in deep snow. I do not ride. I feed, and pet, and talk to them. It is their time off. Down time from a long, hard summer. We share the darkness. We recover, reflect, rest, rejuvenate. We will have to work again, to ride again, to run together up these high mountain trails. Later. For now, we are slow, dormant, tired. Summer is far behind, far ahead. We are here, now, cold and dark and I wonder if they get bored standing around waiting, do they need a job to do, a point and purpose, or do they revel in the nothingness that winter allows them? I look in their eyes, deep within. They will come to me, rest their big warm shaggy chin on my shoulder, in my arms. They will stand there in the swelling snow and follow me to another feeding, another day, in another storm. I believe they too are longing.Where is the warmth of the sun, the green of the grass, long days and open trails? Where are the tourists now? They ask. I ask. We look around the cold dark air hanging heavy over our thick coats. We remember, we long. We sigh and the winter begins and passes. We can feel the growing grass beneath this deepinging snow.