We are one. The rhythmic pounding of the horse’s hooves beneath me hastens as a gust of crisp September air fills both him and I with renewed energy. Strands of long white hair intertwine with my fingers as the wind flows through my horse’s mane. My hair mirrors his, windswept, as it streams out behind me with the force of his gallop.
Every movement is pronounced. Beneath me, the horse feels like a coiled spring. The electric force of his energy buzzes through me. I feel him slowly pulling against the bit, the reins going taut in my hands. Through the reins, I feel his every motion. Every step grows faster. The sky is a flowing blue sheet arcing above us, its stoic clouds racing past as though it is they, not us, that are in motion.
Ahead, the fence stands three feet tall, striped blue and red poles like sticks of candy. We can both taste it. The horse’s chiseled yellow ears snap in the direction of the jump. With gentle, steady pressure against his mouth I pull him to a stop. He weaves back and forth in a serpentine twist, tossing his head in defiance. A sudden motion over the hill draws an inquisitive flick of his left ear, and I follow with a glance. Four figures are striding towards us – my little mother and my father in his plaid shirt, followed by their two friends. They’ll be angry with me– I’m not supposed to be riding bareback.
A smile plays at the corners of my mouth. The horse snorts as I wheel him around, trotting several paces away from the fence. My mother shouts something, but I ignore the vague sound of her voice. The world seems to fold in around me, forming a tunnel leading to the fence. I gather the reins. Tuned in to my motions, the horse bends his neck, touching his chin to his chest in anticipation. I clench my calves around his sides, and he bursts into a gallop.
My veins grow hot as adrenaline pulses through me. The reins slide through my fingers as I give him freedom to run, and he takes it. I can hear nothing but the wind resonating in my ears as we run. The jump grows closer and closer and closer. He speeds up. Faster, I urge. I grip his mane. The coiled spring looses, and he hurls over the fence. His back arches. I am leaning over his neck, his mane and the wind in my face. This instant stretches out, and for a moment we feel like we are flying.
His front hooves strike the ground. The impact is jarring. I feel my teeth click together. Our pace is dizzying. Frantically I gather the reins, but it’s no good, I’ve let them fall too loose. The horse charges towards a steep hill, and for a panicked moment I think he’s going to jump off it. In the distance, my mother screams something. I can’t make it out. All I can see is the slope. My heartbeat is erratic. Then, the horse swerves left. I slide sideways on his bare back, clenching the reins with white knuckles. For one futile moment I struggle. Legs twisted on his back, arms around his neck, reins flapping in the wind.
And for a moment, I really am flying.
My head cracks against the ground. Pain lances through my back. The word is swirling white, and voices sparkle in the distance. The horse’s big muzzle sniffs at me intrusively. His huge black eyes search mine innocently. I sigh. Now, we are two.
Every movement is pronounced. Beneath me, the horse feels like a coiled spring. The electric force of his energy buzzes through me. I feel him slowly pulling against the bit, the reins going taut in my hands. Through the reins, I feel his every motion. Every step grows faster. The sky is a flowing blue sheet arcing above us, its stoic clouds racing past as though it is they, not us, that are in motion.
Ahead, the fence stands three feet tall, striped blue and red poles like sticks of candy. We can both taste it. The horse’s chiseled yellow ears snap in the direction of the jump. With gentle, steady pressure against his mouth I pull him to a stop. He weaves back and forth in a serpentine twist, tossing his head in defiance. A sudden motion over the hill draws an inquisitive flick of his left ear, and I follow with a glance. Four figures are striding towards us – my little mother and my father in his plaid shirt, followed by their two friends. They’ll be angry with me– I’m not supposed to be riding bareback.
A smile plays at the corners of my mouth. The horse snorts as I wheel him around, trotting several paces away from the fence. My mother shouts something, but I ignore the vague sound of her voice. The world seems to fold in around me, forming a tunnel leading to the fence. I gather the reins. Tuned in to my motions, the horse bends his neck, touching his chin to his chest in anticipation. I clench my calves around his sides, and he bursts into a gallop.
My veins grow hot as adrenaline pulses through me. The reins slide through my fingers as I give him freedom to run, and he takes it. I can hear nothing but the wind resonating in my ears as we run. The jump grows closer and closer and closer. He speeds up. Faster, I urge. I grip his mane. The coiled spring looses, and he hurls over the fence. His back arches. I am leaning over his neck, his mane and the wind in my face. This instant stretches out, and for a moment we feel like we are flying.
His front hooves strike the ground. The impact is jarring. I feel my teeth click together. Our pace is dizzying. Frantically I gather the reins, but it’s no good, I’ve let them fall too loose. The horse charges towards a steep hill, and for a panicked moment I think he’s going to jump off it. In the distance, my mother screams something. I can’t make it out. All I can see is the slope. My heartbeat is erratic. Then, the horse swerves left. I slide sideways on his bare back, clenching the reins with white knuckles. For one futile moment I struggle. Legs twisted on his back, arms around his neck, reins flapping in the wind.
And for a moment, I really am flying.
My head cracks against the ground. Pain lances through my back. The word is swirling white, and voices sparkle in the distance. The horse’s big muzzle sniffs at me intrusively. His huge black eyes search mine innocently. I sigh. Now, we are two.
1 comment:
The words! The photo! Quite a read, Brooke.
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