A Summer of Horses

Word had it that there were horse farms just east of our house. Full of adventurous anticipation, my sister and I accepted my brother’s big bike that was the Pegasus of our horse escapades. We cruised bumpy, overly oiled, roads at a fairly good clip making mental notes of pastures full of horses. It was like opening a horse book and having every color and breed right there: bays, pintos, palominos, appaloosas, grays and whites.

All summer, we squandered many days peering over the fences before we decided to squeeze between the planks of wood, careful not to touch anything in case it was hot-wired to keep out unwelcome intruders... We lived and breathed horses, and couldn’t wait to change into prancing horses with many equine moves. We stomped, pawed, and whinnied in delight as we ran, jumped, and kicked...

When we were worn out, we stretched our bodies upon the lush green grasses of the pastures, we felt safe, timeless, and at peace paying no mind to the horses. As we transformed into our respective equine forms we dissolved our association with the human race. Our vivid imaginations sent us into grandiose horse fantasies of one day owning a horse.

from Dianna McPhail, author of  On the Right Lead