TO FIND PEACE 1

it was just barely light enough to see. the wind was blowing a steady gale and it was cold. the roan horse had his head down at wither level and was marching into the wind. the bridle reins that were attatched to the garcia bit in his mouth were swinging in cadence to the march. the man that held those bridle reins was like a statue of marble. from his black hat, to the yellow scarf wrapped around his neck then a sheep skin lined denim jacket and bull hide chaps. his tony lama boots stuck deep into bull hide tapaderos with a pair of rust covered spurs straped to them. he stared ahead his face a cold pale color. his moustch swept back on each side of his face by the wind. the roan horse trudged on toward the hill that lay in front of them. he had been here before, he knew the way and the routine. comming to the base of the hill the roan took the trail up the side toward the top. on reaching the top the horse stopped at the same place he always stood waitting. the rider swung down with a groan escapeing his lips. he was cold to the bone. the wind blew if anything a little harder on this hill top. the man dropped a big rock on the end of his bridle rein to hold the horse there. he turned and walked slowley through the maze of boulders threading his way through them. the boulders blocked the wind some what. on the outter edge of the boulder pile there was a flat rock, shaped almost like a easy chair. on the windward side stood a tall boulder breaking the wind. the man sat down on the flat rock heavily. with another groan. he wasnt young any more. his body didnt absorb the bad weather as well as in his youngr years. from his lofty perch he could look east over many sections of his ranch. he carried a small set of binoculars but he wouldnt use them he watched the eastern horizon for the appearence of the warming sun. soon , rays of sunshine split the atmospher and warmed his face. below he could see cattle starting out off their bed grounds . he wasnt going to disturb them he just sat there and took in everything happening below him. a troop of javalina were wandering through the brush. a deer was tip toeing around a mesquite tree picking up left over mesquite beans. all was peaceful the man was comfortable where he sat. the day was beginning, his mind was at ease, he would soon start a circle to the west part of the ranch checking his cattle. but where he sat was always the place to start the day.his house was empty, his closest companion this roan horse. he was past middle age and alone in the world. so this little peice of solitude was special to him.in his time on earth he had spent most of his 55 years a horseback.many of those years he had used catching other peoples cattle he had worked steady and saved his money and been able to buy this little south eastern az ranch. something he had always wanted. but now, it brought him no pleasure. he had no one to share it with he knew he had fewer years ahead of him than behind. in his heart he yearned for company at night, and wakeing up. he had had rekationships in the past but the women wanted more from him than he could give he wouldnt veer from his goal. now he had that goal acheived it was hollow. he stood up and felt the force of the cold wind hit him. reaching the good roan horse he pulled his rein from under the rock , then stuck a boot in a stirrup and swung aboard. a loud pop came from his hip. it hurt enough to force him to lean over the saddle horn until the pain subsided. picking up the reins he tuurned down hill. maybe he would just spend the day in the house . a cup of coffee and a good book right then was a tantalizing thought. the roan started back down the hill toward home 3 miles away.