Broken Magic

Sound travels well over rocks and hard-packed earth. That’s why I could hear the guy with the dirty bike. His voice carried through the still air, taunting, “Watch him get his ass stomped by those Mustangs.”

I glanced at the small herd that had formed around me. Each was a beautiful creature, coats shimmering under the Nevada sun. I no longer called them wild. I knew of many turned-out, not wanted or needed.

I moved slowly, quietly, and methodically, snapping photographs of the Mustangs. Their eyes reflected curiosity rather than fear. I wished I could tell them how much I admired them. When I heard the biker’s big mouth again, my anger rose. I imagined reaching across the narrow valley and knocking the teeth from the big mouth.

Would it make a difference? Probably not.

The horses closed in around me, sniffing and curious. It was a delicate dance of trust. Their breath was warm against my skin, their muscles tense yet relaxed. I felt a moment of peace, a connection to something ancient and wild. But the moment the two idiots on the motorbikes fired their engines, the magic shattered. The small herd bolted up the hill to the far side, opposite the bikes.

For a split second, I thought about flipping the bikers the bird. But by the time I turned around, they were already making rooster-tails in the gravel roadway. They wouldn’t understand what they’d disrupted.

Would they even care? I doubted it.

I stood there, the echo of their engines fading, feeling the weight of my solitude. The desert around me was again silent, but the moment was lost now. I had been part of something, and now it was gone. The Mustangs would return, but it would not be the same.

The sun climbed higher in the sky, and I packed up my camera, feeling the loss like a physical ache. As I walked back to my truck, I couldn’t help but think of all the moments in life that slip away before you can hold onto them.

The fragility of trust, the beauty of the wild, the stupidity of men. I looked at the horizon and mumbled, “Maybe someday they’ll understand.” But deep down, I wasn’t sure they ever would.