rushridge.com

Living in the moment. Within the coolness of the fall day, the silence broken by the whisper of the wind in the pines high above and a warning cry of the blue jay from its evergreen branches. I walked on, closely followed by the blue roan – his nose lightly touching my shoulder. Warm breath and whiskers tickling my cheek halts my wanderings as I stop to scratch the friendly colt. White hairs sift down to the ground, much like the approaching snowflakes of winter.

It was the robustly colored pheasants that drew me from the warmth of the house – two roosters squabbling over the territorial rights of my back yard. The shy creatures fled at my approach, resounding squawks protesting my intrusion. I was drawn to the hills of the pasture and the horses within. The chestnut’s legs reached for the sky as he rolled in an effort to dry the rain from his hide – his shaggy and now muddy coat betraying the sleek summer sheen of days past.

The blue roan, started by the commotion, left my side to the hill above, highlighted by a brief ray of sunshine against the deep green of the pines. The clicks of my camera shutter the only unnatural sound amidst the drone of the crickets in the grass.

It became a game between the blue roan and I, as he ran from hillside to corral and then back to me. My camera captured the moments of his romp – his glee refusing to be dampened by the cloudy day. His mottled coat a blur of motion as he bucked and kicked with the enthusiasm of the young; settling to a walk as he respectfully approached me for another scratch. At my urging, he exits for another run, up hill and down – mud, mane and tail flying in the breeze generated by his thundering hooves, echoing in the quiet of the approaching shower.

The older geldings waited patiently in the muddy corral, unaffected by the zeal of the blue roan colt named Harley until he too, waited patiently by the fence for his snack of crab apples. Hastened by another approaching rain shower, I gathered the crisp red windfalls and fed the boys their treats. Soon smacking lips and the fresh scent of apple mingled with the gentle cleansing drops falling from the sky. The drops became larger – silencing the crickets with their damp. Wanting to linger with warm horse breath upon my fingers and rain damp upon my hair, the earthy scent of smoke emitting from the chimney reluctantly drew me back to the warmth and crackle of the wood fire within. Living in the moment – treasured for years to come.