Waiting

Brena seems forever waiting to eat. She isn't disappointed when I am around. However I am amazed at how close she can stand to that electric fence tape and never get shocked. She is but millimetres away.....and with impunity.

We had a quick ride around the farm. Everything there seems so much more exciting to her than the big open spaces. That's odd. The farm should be familiar and comfortable. But it isn't. Obviously she is a true trail horse.

The trail does seem like our natural home. We move ahead, looking about us, sometimes exploring, relaxed yet alert to our surroundings. We become connected to our environment. We are free as the trails that we tread.

Minutes become hours. It is as if we vanish from time. Only the passage of the sun through the sky - and, all too often, down towards the horzon - sets chronology to our footfalls by the thousand. It is as if the seasons claim us, slowing us from time set by a watch to that of nature itself.

The ground is so hard that I am going to try working Brena in boots. Fortunately Doru's Old Macs fit her - size 10, the largest. She doesn't look like a horse with big feet, however they are. With a bit of luck I'll get off work early tomorrow and the weather will be good. Well, we do try to make a bit of luck for ourselves.

Comments

[The Equestrian Vagabond]

lovely ride, and poetic : )
Brena is like Dudley - who's in California now : ( - forever waiting to eat, even when is was eating!

[White Horse Pilgrim]

I loved your descriptions of Dudley. He sounded like a great character. I hope that he is doing well.