I rode my horse today. There was no fanfare,
no wonderful volunteers, no miles or points accrued, no competitors rude or
otherwise, no telephones, traffic jams or computers. Just she
and I and an aging but eternally enthusiastic Springer Spaniel.
We traversed the mountains of the Allegany National
Forest along the NY/PA border - sometimes on trails, sometimes off through
the trees seeking solitude and beauty. We found it, by the way.
The sky was brilliant blue, the air, while close
with early summer heat, was clean and sweet with blossoms and leaves. My
mare, Allure, looked forward to every turn and hill with her black rimmed ears
perked and her liquid arab eyes wide and bright. She never failed to jog
with that smooth ground covering gait, to the top of every hill, eager to
see ahead. Her red-bay coat was fine and shiny with a spider web of veins
just under the damp surface, and her soft black muzzle shone with the glow of
exertion.
The trees, oaks, cherry, maples, hemlock -
some over a hundred years old, watched us go by, gently rustling and bowing to
our passage, as they did the native americans, the settlers, the hunters and
other nature lovers who may have passed this way. If only they could
talk. The rocks under our feet bore the stamp of ancient creatures from
when these mountains were covered in sea water. The creeks tumbled clear
and fresh through moss covered boulders, lending refreshment and relief to the
creatures who forded them.
It was a perfect day. The springer is asleep
at my feet, the mare is grazing in knee deep grass with her best friends, and I
am sun burnt and content.
