I overheard some riders complaining like old campaigners. Asking a horse for bend sounded like the Hundred Years‘ War. They weren’t mean, just grumbling that it was hard to make the horse do what they wanted. Their voices heavy with dread, I had a feeling that their horses probably weren’t wild about them either.
Hail blown sideways by the wind, dark clouds churning across the horizon, as the horses brace against the stinging ice pellets, their noses tucked tight to their chests, running for shelter. A stark reminder on this hot summer day, torn leaves stripped to the ground, intermingled with ice, standing water everywhere, that seasons so long … Read more