It was the fall of 2003. I was going hunting/camping for the first time with Richard. We took a couple horses and a couple dogs, the way we do.
We arrived in the woods in the afternoon. Set up camp, let the horses graze.
Then we decided to go for a little ride, investigate the area.
It was the kind of landscape we love: woods, but with meadows and wide, open areas in between. We were riding on a logging road that gently sloped up and down.
The air was crisp. The day approached the magic hour: golden light, the sun starting to set.
On the way back to the campsite, Rich turned around to me, and asked: "Are you okay when we gallop for a bit?"
I was 23. Trusted my old, loyal horse, the one the entire family had learned riding on. I trusted this man. So I said: "Sure."
And off he went, magnificent on his black, proud, fiery friend. And my own horse, his buddy, followed, as we knew he would.
Flying along the road, into the sunset, full of trust, hair flying, forgetting all fears - that is one of my most treasured memories.
I will never forget it.
Miriam
A perfect memory. Riding a horse into the sunset through meadows sounds idyllic. I would love to do that someday :-)
ReplyDeleteWhat a cool memory. I love that time of day just before the sun goes down!
ReplyDeleteSo brave, I am frightfully scared of horses but it does seem so amazing to ride one through the woods!
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