Denver, Colorado
Hello friend,
I continue to learn the powerful lesson that one does not need to travel to exotic destinations to be amazed by the world's beauty. This truth emerged once again as I discovered the thousands of wild horses that roam our public land in Colorado.
Admittedly, I’m a bit late to discovering the beauty and magic of horses. Growing up my sister had a horse named Lucky, but my young self didn’t feel a connection or have an appreciation in the way that she did. It didn’t really hit me until I rode an Icelandic Horse back in 2015 while Liz and I were on vacation and signed up for an “advanced” horseback riding adventure.
Advanced, I thought at the time? What has she gotten me into now? I’ve never been on a horse! But once I overcame the fear that word had inspired, got into the saddle of a smaller Icelandic horse and calmed down a bit, I really embraced the experience. Over the hours-long ride I connected with this horse, galloping over the black sand beaches of Iceland. It was such a magically new feeling and I enjoyed every minute of our day together. As I think about it now, six years later, it honestly could have been a scene out of a movie. At least I’m remembering it that way.
I said repeatedly that day that I was going to get into horseback riding when I returned to the US. But, as it goes, life got in the way and the idea was shelved.
And then last month the idea came rushing back.
The memory hit me when I came across a random article in my Google news feed one night that described in depth the wild horses in Colorado. Wild horses? In Colorado? Sure, it’s one thing to see a trained horse at a stable in Colorado. The ranching industry has been an integral part of Colorado’s economy since the state came into existence. But wild horses? Untamed and free to roam? This, I had to see. Within 24 hours my trip was planned, my camera bag was packed, and I was in the car on my way to Grand Junction.
Up at 5am the next morning, I loaded my equipment on my back, packed a ton of water, some cliff bars, a few extra battery packs and set out before that warm, morning low-light appeared. I was at the Little Book Cliffs Wild Horse area, a rugged high desert deep canyon landscape filled with juniper and sagebrush. I was no more than a mile into my hike when I heard a horse. Yes! My heart started pounding as I cautiously walked closer towards the sound and spotted four horses standing together in a clearing, eating breakfast.
At this point I had no idea how safe or unsafe I was, how close I could get to these horses, or how they would respond to me if/when they saw me. They heard me approach; all four raising their heads to look me straight in the eye. I stood there frozen in place, too nervous to move because I didn’t want them to move. We watched each other for what felt like forever but was probably only a minute or two. When the horses realized I wasn’t a threat, they went back to grazing. All except one. The little foal of this family continued to stare me down, wondering what creature had interrupted her breakfast. Many minutes passed before her curiosity got the best of her and she walked right up to me. I held my breath and thought is this really happening? She was so close I could have touched her.
Knowing these are wild horses, I stood still not wanting to anger the mom and end up with a hoof in my mouth. But the mom did not seem to care that her baby horse spent time up close and personal observing me. Once it was safe (or so I guessed?) I slowly got down on my knees to get eye level and began capturing portraits of her. It was amazing, special, and she was as interested in me as I was in her.
Horses share so many qualities with humans. They share a similar family structure, they can communicate emotions, feel empathy, learn to trust, show stress, and require social relationships to be healthy. They also – like humans – thrive in open spaces. And somewhat like my Fred the Egret, experience, it was as though this little foal and I were reflecting the same ideas back to each other. The rush of freedom I always felt in open spaces, the reasons I continue to live in a state surrounded by so much natural beauty, the need for connections with others. These were the same things this little horse needed to survive.
On my second day, I encountered another little foal, and I was also reminded of how the youthful eye sees the world. Children and young people are fascinated by their environment, they are observant, students of everything and somewhere along the way growing up we seem to lose that. The older horses I encountered that day and throughout my trip did not care about my presence, but the young ones did. Observing and photographing this behavior further reminded me to see the world through youthful eyes, to be constantly learning, absorbing new experiences, environments, subjects, and expanding one's horizon. I write about this idea a lot in my horizon collection of work.
Over the following few days I encountered dozens and dozens of horses. They were seemingly as comfortable with me as I was with them. They mostly just wanted to eat, raising their heads up occasionally to see what was going on and then satisfied that I wasn’t a threat, they would return to their own happenings. And honestly? At times I hoped for more action. Maybe two stallions fighting, a band of horses running down the canyon throwing up dust clouds and shaking the ground as they ran by me as if I was in some kind of Hollywood western movie. This never happened, or at least not while I had my camera out. And sure, I could have kicked the ground, thrown a rock, did something to get a response. But this was their space, not mine. I was the interloper, and scaring them into my desired action for a photograph was just wrong, never mind dangerous. Yes, I wanted to capture beautiful photographs of these heavenly animals, but not at the expense of upsetting them.
And that brings me to the other shared quality between humans and horses: respect. We all know that horses will retaliate poor treatment and resist people they don’t trust. Just like humans do. I understood that I had to earn their respect just as people have to earn each other’s respect. I respected their homes and in turn, they respected my presence.
There were so many memorable moments during the time I spent at the Little Book Cliffs Wild Horse area: a filly that posed for me in the most flattering, golden light at the end of one day where I felt like I was photographing a runway model at a fashion shoot, or when two much larger horses came charging right towards me at full speed as they ran down the canyon. A moment that left my heart pounding, hugging a dinky naked tree, feeling the ground shaking and so caught up in the stunning wildness of it all that I forgot to grab my camera and photograph them.
I left missing my new horse friends. The connections I made with them reminded me of how much epic beauty there is in this world, and that you don’t need to travel far to experience it. I’ve decided that I want to meet more wild horses, and I have plans in the works to visit the other wild herd areas in the state. I want to grow this collection with more portraits of the great American Mustangs.
All of that said, my biggest takeaway was to not forget what magic lies in your backyard, what could you be missing out on, what beauty lives around the edges of your day-to-day life that - with just a little effort - can be experienced. Being a tourist in your own hometown opens up so much possibility for new experiences!
I hope you enjoyed my recount of first experience of wild horses and enjoy the collection. All the portraits were classically captured in the field with traditional dodge & burn post processing techniques.
The collection, Mustangs, is a limited-edition collection with progressive pricing. As prints in an edition sells, the price will go up. Prints only can be purchased directly online. Please contact the gallery via the contact page for custom framing and mounting options. All full-service mounting and framing sales are by email or phone.
JC
