But I have horses to work. Which means before much more procrastinating has taken place (can writing a blog be qualified as procrastinating?), I must pull myself together and get out there and see what I can do.
As anyone who knows horses will know, that is the big question on a blustery, thundery day. What can we actually do? There is nothing like buffeting winds and rolling, roiling thunder clouds to excite a horse. Depending upon the horse, it is likely a ground work day. Not to be confused with Groundhog Day. Groundwork as in my feet stay on the ground while theirs likely do not - as in not riding.
What is it about the wind that so enlivens even the quietest horse? Makes them want to buck, run, play, pretend a monster lurks behind every bush and around every corner?
What is it that makes them - and us - want to stop and face into the oncoming surge of electrified air, let it lift our hair as it sends our spirits soaring? Why do we want to fling our arms open and our head back to let it stream over and around and through us? And why is it so thrilling?
It is the answer of the wind in our hearts, an echo of this force of nature. An echo of some deeper knowing that whispers in quiet nights that we can go further, be more, seek deeper, reach higher. Be greater than the sum of our known parts. It is the wind beneath the wings of the dream from on high that beckons and begs us to take the leap, a chance, try again, risk it all. Have a little faith.
Perhaps that is why horses call to us, for they are the embodiment of the wind and it's closest cousin, and when one is in the company of the other, they seek their own sweet harmony in a tempestuous game of Follow The Leader, the horse forever trying to catch up and outdo the aerial acrobatics of the wind.
All I can really do is step back and enjoy the spectacle. Work it is not. I'll see you later.
And God took a handful of southerly wind, blew His breath upon it and created the horse.
~ Bedouin Legend
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