Imke Spilker - Wild Horses

"The sight of them pulls us under their spell."--Imke Spilker

Having devoted the prior two journal entries to beauty's dark side and Altamiro's glorious wild horse expressionism, another article written by Imke Spilker has been presented to me at a perfect time for its first publication in English here in the Journal of Ravenseyrie.



This article was initially published in 1995 in a German environmental magazine called Umwelt Direkt, appearing in the segment Nature and Man. The title of the article is, Wild Horses and, like me, I think you will be amazed at how far ahead of her time Imke Spilker was, to be writing fifteen years ago about things we are just now coming to terms with.

The translation of Wild Horses is by Kristina McCormack. All the photos accompanying the text were taken by me, here at Ravenseyrie, with the exception of the black and white image of Imke Spilker and Reno which was captured by Hans-Peter Gerstner.

Many thanks to Imke Spilker and Kris McCormack for trusting the Journal of Ravenseyrie with the publication of another thought-provoking article.

Wild Horses
by
Imke Spilker

Earth has been subjected by mankind -- this idea characterizes now as ever our behavior toward the environment. But subjugation is not the only answer we can give to the living world around us.

Nature in Germany is tame. No bear lurks deep in the woods, every tree has its owner, and the wind-and-waterproof Goretex jacket resists every bit of bad weather. We have our Nature firmly in hand. We love her, enclose her, cultivate her. We help the turtles cross the street, live in a nature conscious way, and feel like her big brother.

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They fly off into the distance on thundering hooves, confidently tossing their flowing manes, eyes flashing they rear and gambol, full of unbounded power and joy in living: high-spirited, playful, free horses. The sight of them pulls us under their spell. Horses, it is said, are noble, proud, symbols of freedom and power.

Human beings go into the mountains and desert, in ice and snow, into oceans and virgin forest seeking primordial wildness -- always remaining outside it, only observers. Because wildness is fright and yearning all in one. The magnificent, colossal unboundedness provokes horror when we feel completely at its mercy. Powerless, abandoned to a Nature that we no longer understand, that we no longer trust, panic seizes us and we feel alienated, strangers in a strange land.

Horses are tame harmless pets. Work animals sacrificing themselves in the service of mankind. Livestock. We love horses. They are familiar to us. Horses are strong and fast, far surpassing humans in their powers. Domestication has done little to change that. When they are left to themselves, they shift effortlessly back to a wild horse existence. Horses do not need us.
As long as the river stays in its bed, the garden is free of weeds, and our apartment is free of vermin, we feel at home in nature. Subjugated, she allows us harmony. We feel in unison with tamed nature. But as soon as Nature “leaves the reservation”, comes too close and becomes unpredictable, the uncontrolled-ness of it all disturbs us at the deepest level: we decimate, cultivate, train.... It is still fascinating for man to control, “break”, and bridle the horse -- that symbol of wildness. Dominated Nature, that carries him.

But horses are not wild! They are afraid of us and our incomprehensible world, they sense our conflicting emotions, they would like to trust us, and above all they do not make an attempt on our lives with their superior strength. Horses are not only NOT aggressive, they are actually addicted to harmony -- a characteristic that has made them extraordinarily useful in the history of human beings. Their working days are over. Today we have stronger, faster, more easily maintained machines. But, the fascination with horses is intact.
The fact that they are no longer needed as beasts of burden offers us a new opportunity, but instead of seizing it and learning a new art of partnership from horses, we instead still use them --- as leisure-time appliances. Horses are drilled, controlled, enslaved like (almost) no other animal. Every step is proscribed for them. The arsenal of methods for completely controlling and dominating an animal that once roamed free on the steppes is continually perfected. All too often this “creature of the wind” loses his health and his joy of living because of this.

It could be different. We could become familiar, intimate, with the horse as with a friend. We could give up control and bridling and entrust ourselves to a togetherness that bridges the separation between animal and man.
Horses can teach us harmony, unity between inner and outer. They can take away from us the fear that underlies our preference for separation and control. If we learn to open ourselves to them and perceive their subtle language, we will also come closer to our own true nature. For life -- and this applies to us, too -- is always somehow unpredictable. Thank goodness!

Photo: H-P Gerstner

Communication instead of control -- that changes even the horses. The conscious, proud art of movement engenders a new and healthy perception of self. Dance and play, horse and human -- elevated, exhilarated, joyful and free.

“And Allah took a handful of south wind, breathed into it and created the horse ... ‘I have given you the power to fly without wings and triumph without sword..’” --Bedouin tradition

A Dialogue With the Universe

We are in constant dialogue with the universe. Maybe we don't realize it, but throughout every moment of our lives, we are giving and receiving messages. Mostly, our upbringing and manner of living in the modern world has had the effect of rendering us oblivious and indifferent to such dialogues. We are ignorantly rude to the world around us, being far more addicted to consumerism-saturated aspirations than liberated by our degrees of wealth and "easy" living.

People no longer tread over the bare earth. Their hands have drawn away from the grasses and flowers, they do not gaze up to the heavens, their ears are deaf to the songs of birds, their noses are rendered insensitive by exhaust fumes, and their tongues have forgotten the simple tastes of nature. All five senses have grown isolated from nature. --Masanobu Fukuoka

As we speed over the landscape in automobiles and plop in front of our televisions for long hours of mind-numbing escapism, what might the trees and grasses and birds and wind and rocks think of our manner of living?

I think they are affronted by our insolence. I think they are also amazingly forgiving of our ignorance...and I think they sing songs on our behalf, hoping one day we will hear their voices and come out of unexamined habitual behaviors, joining them in composing new songs.

Communication with the plant and animal people begins with the realization that we are not superior but equal to the plants and animals. In fact, we should begin to understand that in most cases we rank below them in our basic ability to survive. --Tom Brown, Jr.

I have caught myself reaching for the "fast forward" button on my life since my last entry here in the Journal of Ravenseyrie. It's the harshness of this year's winter that has served to prompt me to such disrespect of the present state of is-ness...(even as I type this another "winter storm" is in the forecast, with snow, high winds and deep-freeze temperatures beginning this evening and into tomorrow). But I have caught myself in the rude act of ridiculous resistance to what is, and I've retracted my desire to shut my eyes tight and wish for immediate spring. There would be much of value I would miss if I skipped parts of my life. I almost didn't realize to wish away the rest of winter was petulant and selfish...I hope the rocks and birds will forgive me for my weakness and complaints.

As Tom Brown, Jr. has noted, the plant and animal people are far superior in their survival capacities than I am. And I daresay they are never indifferent to the dialogue of the universe, rather, are always knowingly engaged in this magical, natural, essential two-way communication.

Once again, the semi-wild horse keeping environment here at Ravenseyrie has provided me with deeper meaning of our inter-connectedness. With the landscape once again under a covering of deep snow, Kevin and I have strapped back on the snowshoes for going about certain necessary tasks that take us away from the plowed or trod-and-packed areas. As is my habit during such times, I take the pups out for their daily walks, but instead of walking, I put on my cross-country skis, and together we follow the horse trails in search of fresh air, exercise and whatever else might be revealed during such an outing.

The other day I was able to link up with one of Kevin's well-pressed trails from an excursion he took with the toboggan to fetch dead timber for our trusty Jotul wood stove, which has kept us so wonderfully warm all winter. The sun caught on the many-faceted snow particles over the fields like so many diamonds. I had to stop and take photos, though the camera couldn't quite capture the full essence. Tobbacco, who had gone on ahead of the rest of us, sat patiently on the trail waiting for me to finish snapping photos.

I had brought the camera along because now that the snow is deep again, the horses have gone back to pawing and digging to get to the grasses underneath. During the last brief melt we had, it didn't look to me like there was anything but soggy, faded, depleted and spent looking grass to be grazing upon, and I couldn't imagine why the horses would bother to expend so much effort digging for such sorrowful looking forage.


But since this last layer of deep snow, it seems some magic is at work...look! Green shoots! (Click on the image to enlarge and see the early gift the universe has given to the horses.)The song of the earth was heard by the horses (because they were tuned in and listening rather than moaning and groaning over more deep snowfall as I had been) and it told them that the awakening of the landscape was already underway!

The next day, I took the camera out with me again and took some photos of the horses:

The herd finishes up their breakfast hay up near the house.


Fada, Interessado, Ciente, Mistral and Zeus


Himself, purebred Sorraia stallion, Altamiro

After initially running off because I startled him , Altamiro became intensely curious in my picture taking and decided to offer me some poses.

Doll and Altamiro, coming in close for more intimate attention from the camera gal

And to close for today, I want to share photos I took yesterday of a piece of statuary that stands in the corner at the top of the stairs to our basement. This marble statue once belonged to my mother-in-law. I have named her St. Melangell after the legend of the Celtic patron saint of the hare and other animals. As I was coming up the stairs, my mind still focused on wanting to "fast forward" through these remaining days of winter, the sunlight happened to be falling on her exactly as you see here. Like an omen or affirmation, wouldn't you say? So mystical in its illumination of this patron saint of the animals here at Ravenseyrie...this beam of sun reveals a promise that the dialogue with the universe is an ever-evolving beautiful song suggesting things are "just right" and best experienced in the moment and not wished away.