Of Leather and Horseflesh

It's that time of year again! Crispety, crunchety leaves all a-swirl as the chilly wind casts snowfalls of brilliant colors around your feet...

You curry your four-legged friend, using a step stool if you have to, to get all the dust and grit you can from under the saddle blanket. He sidesteps with anticipation as you come around the trailer with his tack, and you let him sniff it and begin to chew out of recognition, signaling he knows what this is and that he is relaxed about it. He doesn't even flinch when a stirrup falls over the side, and is still as you work your way around and under, straightening and attaching and cinching. At last you slide the hack up and around his nose, over the ears, and clasp the cheek strap. Step stool ahoy, you slide your foot in the stirrup and flip a leg over in one graceful move, then nose your other toe in the other stirrup. Smooth pets down the side of his neck tell him thank you for agreeing to do this again. The two of you walk around, doing some drills to see if there is any soreness, stiff limbs, or emotional ghosts hiding in the closet. It's amazing how sometimes the most familiar things can become frightening because of something that happened that day - to the both of you - so we scare them out into the open and watch them vanish.



It doesn't take long for the scent of hot horse hair to begin emanating, mixing with the leather rigging, the neoprene belly band, and the fleecy saddle pad, wafting its way up through your nostrils and out the top of your soul, a giant imaginary flag set to winds unseen. You ride through the wide open spaces, beside the gurgling waters of yesterday's torrent, until the inner darkness between young trees begins to disappear the details of the forest, and vapor breath creates dew on long whiskers. The end of the day is coming, and he walks with the swagger and grace of a half-drunken dancer up to the trailer and stands there after you dismount with no need of being tied as you peel off the sensitive layers that comforted the ride on skin and bones for the both of you. Naked and free, he begins to graze at your feet, and you pick up your brush to whisk his aura clean, walking behind him step for step while you comb through the long, variegated strands of his tail. The last golden rays outline each member of the herd dotting the hill, as they connect again to the ancient rituals of their ancestors.