The Most Beautiful Place on Earth
I've been struggling to find some fitting way to introduce this.. maybe with a bit of wit, or a bit of nostalgia. But for some reason, it's easier for me to stare at a blank page than to come up with things to say on this topic. In fact, I've opened up this page several times and tried to write something, to no avail. The thoughts just kind of swirl in my head: happiness, ecstasy, anxiety, and memories that race back to some really fond times in my life.
I've waited several months before even attempting to say anything, as I always had that lingering fear that perhaps it was too good to be true, that it wouldn't work out.
But I can't wait any longer; I made that mistake the last time and no one knew what a large part of my life it was until the very end.
I'm riding again.
Yeah, woo-hoo, there's the big dramatic three words. But, for real, I am riding again. Several times a month, in fact, on one wonderful 20-year old ex-lesson horse whose owner is gracious enough to share her gift of horses with me for really what is such a small amount of money.
Words cannot define the feeling I felt while rocking back and forth in the saddle to a canter for the first time in over four years. Words cannot define the feeling I felt after picking up a curry comb and a hoof pick and a dandy brush. The feeling of cinching a saddle or soft horse lips nibbling at my fingers in search of treats.
I've ridden Phoebe about 5 times now and she is a whole lot of fun. I even went on my first real trail ride this weekend, a 7.5 mile ride that took close to three hours. I am still sore, 3 days later.
She pranced the whole way. I even took my first tumble, due to a saddle that wasn't tight enough. Don't worry, I'm fine, I thought it was the funniest thing ever and wasn't scared at all. Guess that's why I've always liked small horses.
But to ride through those open fields, to see deer running past, to look up at a picture perfect sky, all with the ears of a horse pointing forward underneath me.. those pains are worth it. It was the most beautiful place on earth, or one of them, at least.
After our ride, we turned the horses back out in to their giant pasture, a sight so foreign from the dirt turn-out pens that I'd grown up around. I commented on how happy they looked, ambling from each corner of the field to another.
And I counted my lucky stars as I watched them, so thankful to have this opportunity again after so much hurt, so thankful that I am once again able to enjoy these remarkable creatures.