Entrusted Living

 LIFE ON THE PASTURE an interlude to life and death in the woodlands The thing about donkeys is - their personality. In Ecuador, the donkeys were all Eeyores. Sad, brow beaten workers. I watched on numerous occasions, different donkeys, different parts of the country, as Vaqueros would take the lead rope and wrap it round a clump of tall grass. I was amazed. The donkeys never moved. But in America, they lived up to their name Ass. They are assholes. And I don't mean to say they are mean. But let me tell you, if you fake tie them up to a clump a grass they will be off wandering around in no time and you'll have to chase them down.                                                                                         ...

       Life and death in the woodlands PART 1: Stories from my adventures in the woods May 2016. She crept up into the old leaky horse trailer. It had been raining on and off for a few days now. It had been at least five days since the last time the property owners had come up to the pasture to check in on her. It would be two more still till they'd return. She was at a pasture in a small town a little but an hour past Eugene OR. In all, there were about 30 animals, horses and mules and donkeys too. The pasture land ran along Bureau land management woods, in the PNW known for its rain and pine trees. Already she'd been sleeping in the pasture for a few months. It was nearing the end of spring and there were beginning to be more pleasant sunny days than rainy days. But even still the grey sky was not uncommon. What compelled her out the door of comfort and security and into the woods is for another story. She had brought with her the bare essentials. No cell phone, n...