When I was young I loved horses with a passion. I went for a weekly riding lesson and volunteered to muck out the stables and help out in exchange for rides.It was a small ramshackle place in the middle of a sleepy old village. I remember the straw and sawdust strewn over the cobbles of the yard, the dark tack room and the smell of leather. The soft warmth of a horses mouth nuzzling my hand for sugar cubes or carrots.
I can still remember all the smells and sounds of that place. . .
But most of all I can remember my longing to be there, to ride, to have a horse of my own.
It has been years and years now since I last rode a horse. . . but today for some reason I remembered the girl I once was and those long summer days filled with the love of horses...
"We have all forgot more than we remember." - Thomas Fuller
Image - Susannah Bec
3 comments:
I think this means you should find an opportunity to go horseback riding on a nice autumn day in 2010!
The sweet bitterness of memories. The memories of past loves lost in the bustle of life.
I didn't ride when I was a child or teenager. But I remember the feeling, the strong wishful feeling, to learn riding and together with my wonderful horse to "fly" over the field.
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