
However you celebrate the winter/Christmas/Hanukkah season, with those who are important to you and enrich your lives in all the best ways, from our herd to yours, we wish you peace, joy and love!

However you celebrate the winter/Christmas/Hanukkah season, with those who are important to you and enrich your lives in all the best ways, from our herd to yours, we wish you peace, joy and love!

The day before solstice was cloudy and grey, but in the middle, there was black and white: Corazon! 🙂

Dust on winter solstice? Sure. Because we haven’t had a drop of moisture since the very beginning of the month.
High temp of at least 64F (second day in the 60s after a week in the 50s)? Sure, let’s pretend it’s autumn. And it has been warm enough – and windy lately – that most mud is mostly dry. (See that white spot at far left, though? That’s a patch of snow.)
It’s hard to deny how beautiful the weather has been. … It’s impossible to not start the usual worry about how a terrible (dry) winter will lead to an awful growing season.
Yesterday (see above, Aiyanna following the band down to water on a dusty trail) was winter solstice, the beginning of winter (and now lengthening days), “a promise that the light always returns,” I heard recently. Can we amend that to the start of the season when the snow replenishes the soil and vegetation in anticipation of the coming year?
Please, please, PLEASE, Santa, Mother Nature and Old Man Winter, bring us snow this winter!
Let it snow, let it snow, LET IT SNOW! 🙂

We don’t have snow. Mud is drying. Temp was at least 61F recently. Wind hails from the warm south. Rain is forecast for Christmas (in Colorado!?!?).
We have water.
Ah, the little (big) important things. 🙂
Happy winter solstice!
Today is the 10th anniversary of the passing of Dr. Jay Kirkpatrick, beloved fertility-control advocate (and so much more) for wild horses and burros (many species of wildlife, actually). I remember that when I got the news in an email from a friend, though it was December, I thought it was some kind of cruel April Fool’s joke.
I met Dr. Jay in August 2010, when I showed up at the Science and Conservation Center in Billings, Montana, for a PZP training course. I also remember that it took me a long time to work up the courage to follow the advice of a couple of friends and contact him; he was a rock star to me. Legendary. Untouchable. Unapproachable!
Except that neither of those last two words was true.
I finally worked up the gumption to email him … and sign up for training – BEFORE we got approval to implement a PZP program in Spring Creek Basin. I tentatively approached the lab, on the grounds of ZooMontana, the day before the class officially started, to see what I was getting myself into. When Jay appeared, I didn’t ask for an autograph (!), I asked if I could give him a hug. I still remember that, while he laughed, he indulged me. … Wow, I miss him.
Jay was one of the friendliest, most down-to-earth people I’ve ever met, all the more amazing because he was also one of the very most obviously crazy-intelligent people I’ve ever met (to this day). He had this way of making everyone welcome and like you were IN ON IT with him, even as he explained his “why wouldn’t you do it this way” philosophy surrounding better management … some of which you might never quite have thought of but was so wonderfully simple – and, according to his same philosophy, attainable.
Dr. Jay was one of the best, most inspiring, most humble, most committed and dedicated people I’ve ever known, and I feel so blessed to have known him, even briefly. He trained me not only to mix and dart with PZP, the *why* behind doing it, the keeping of records (back at a time when it was particularly challenging for us in Spring Creek Basin) but also the importance of having optimism and a plan … and persevering.
I got to know him for five years, and he encouraged me through the sometimes rocky start of Spring Creek Basin’s PZP program. Even now, 14 years and only one roundup later (in 2011, when we started our PZP program), I think of him quite a lot. He’s one of the three (at least) angels watching over Spring Creek Basin, and I hope he’s proud of what we’ve accomplished here.
Friends Celeste Carlisle and Kayla Grams, along with Melissa Esser (whom I haven’t yet met but already greatly respect) visited Rocky Mountain National Park during their trip to Colorado for the Pathways 2025 Human Dimensions of Wildlife conference. Celeste wrote this blog post for Return to Freedom.


Dramatic near-sunset lighting on Piedra with our most dramatic background. 🙂
We’re still snow-free. Still have lots of mud!

Going back almost exactly a month for this one from a gorgeous, peaceful evening in Spring Creek Basin. The mercury is edging up into the 50s, making it seem more like spring (or fall? leap ahead or remember the days of “yore”?) than winter. So for this morning, an evening pic that recalls soft, warm light and a trip to water for the ponies.

Because of the mud (baby, it’s muddy out there … !!!), I haven’t been into Spring Creek Basin for a few days. The freeze-thaw cycle keeps the ground pretty muddy during the day, and I don’t want to leave ruts (or risk getting stuck) let alone having to stomp around with the weight of the world (what is that in mud per boot … hm … ?) on my boots. 🙂 So this pic of Winona is from about a month ago, pre-snow. Currently, there’s not much snow on the lower levels, but there’s some still clinging to the sides of ridges and in shady (north-facing) places. Grateful for the moisture, in any form!