For a Final Spin

Beyond the mystical hills of the Pine Mountains of Douglas and Lyon Counties, Nevada roam a strange band of now-wild ponies. Shiny and crass of color, they can only be glimpsed under the cover of darkness and then only when the gibbous moon shines across the barren and open landscape.

Once the delight of a thousand children, they found their valiant escape in the deep summer night of a long ago state fair, when put away for the night. How it happened is rumored at and speculated upon, yet not one person has willingly come forth to end the debates until now.

A nameless, but youthful Shoshone medicine woman has learned the answer, but has granted only one interview on this unusual subject. That is because she comes and goes at will through the pine nut tree that stand long the many hillsides of that lengthy range that hides the ponies.

And only this reporter has managed to remain patient enough to await her return from the Land of Nye.

β€œA moon, gibbous and bright, brought forth the greater god, Zaa-q’ran and after seeing the ponies, tethered strangely to the circular platform, granted each their one wish. Freedom to roam,” she explains.

Then quietly she beckons me with the bending of her pointer finger to follow. I do.

We crest the rise before us and there on the other side, in the hollow of two hillocks, dance the free roaming beasts of a once fabulous carousel, a carousel now devoid of its splendor. That lost splendor now resides in the mystical hills of the Pine Mountain and the vague Land of Nye.

One day, I will return and patiently wait – wait for my final spin on those uncirculating and antiquarian carousel horses.

3 thoughts on “For a Final Spin”

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