WITH THANKS TO
HORSES
There's something
about the smell of horses that I just love. Perhaps it triggers
positive memories to my childhood. Or just that I find these beings
such intuitive, beautiful, and majestic creatures.
There are three horses on the farm, which is not many for the size of the place. But due to the mountain and numerous valleys and rises, they are some of the fittest horses I have seen. They are not fit in a way that racehorses are fit, where only certain muscles are worked consistently. These three are only occasionally ridden. Most of their life is spent simply enjoying the beauty of this place, up and down steep mountainsides, into the valleys and back up to the top again.
Unfortunately for me, they are not down at this end of the farm terribly often. Fortunately for me though when they are, they are straight to me for affection, pushing each other out of the way for one of my neck rubs.
While I was into as many sports as I could be when I was a young girl, eventually I ended up on the back of a horse. It was easier for my mother to have all the children doing the same sport, and since the majority wanted to be on horses, I was put on one too.
I loved them. Don't get me wrong. I just wasn't into gymkhanas and the public appearances as much as the others were. Happiest times for me were when I was riding bareback over paddocks, with my dog following not far behind.
On the weekend just gone, we headed over to my hometown to visit my parents. It was a beautiful time. As happens when I am back there, memories from my childhood flooded in. And as I looked at a road I once lived on, I thought about how blessed we were, in our generation and earlier ones, to have the freedom that life offered back then.
At only eight or nine years old, it was no big deal to ride my horse about three kilometres up the road to visit friends after school. There we would spend the afternoons on our horses, jumping over barrels and logs, or just hanging out with each other and our horses, as country kids did.
One time I had a fall and my horse took off, straight back down the road, all the way home without me. Not long after, my mother arrived in the car to collect me, relieved that I was fine. It didn't stop me riding up there again though on days soon after.
As a teenager, I would ride several kilometres after school to visit friends on neighbouring farms. It's hard to believe that 1980 is more than thirty years ago now, as it seems like only yesterday in a way. Those roads ridden were dirt and rarely frequented by traffic. Usually I rode without a saddle and meandered along at my own pace, my dog following beside me. Sometimes I would stop and lift her up to ride with me.
Over the course of years, there were a few different horses in my life. Nuggett was the first horse to come into our family. In hindsight we realised he had been drugged at the sale-yards, poor thing, as he was so subdued with a few kids on him when they showed him. When my father brought him home some hours later though, he was fiery and not happy to have four young kids sitting on his back. In fact, he was so unhappy about it, he threw every single one of us off into a pile of thistles! Welcome to the world of horse-riding. He turned out to be a great horse though and outlived all of the others that followed, living to more than thirty years old. Bless him.
Nicki was a little bay pony (brown with black mane and tail) and was one of the fastest horses about for sporting events. She was great to ride. But the horse I loved most was a grey gelding called Pride. He was already named when we bought him. And I loved him. Now as an adult with hindsight, I realise how graceful he was and how much he loved me too.
If I ever fell off, he always came straight back to me and waited, moving into positions that were easy for me to jump back on. He was happiest too when I rode bareback, no girth around his belt, our bodies connecting and fitting so naturally. I don't know if I have ever felt as free as I did during those teenage years, cantering bareback one paddock after another.
Then I'd slide off and sit under a tree, enjoying the peace of the furthest points of the farm. Pride would be happy, resting or eating beside me. Sometimes he would put his head down to my eye level and nudge me until I rubbed under his neck. And as I smiled to him, his eyes smiled back. He was a beautiful being.
These majestic beautiful animals are a blessing to have on the planet. We have much to learn through their wisdom. And it brings me relief to know that humans are now trying to understand them more, rather than trying to rule them with cruelty and the barbaric ways of days gone by. More and more natural horsemanship courses are available. And more people are coming to acknowledge the intelligence these creatures have.
(If you are a horse lover, or just curious, and want to watch something beautiful, google Dutch Horse Rescue and watch an event that happened about five years ago. It is heart lifting to see).
So while it is a few years since I've been on the back of a horse now, I find that with living here my needs are met in their own way. The horses on the farm know me and trust me, coming into the yard and demanding attention even if I am on the verandah.
And for whatever strange reasons, I am still always slow to wash my hands after they have been, reluctant to wash their smell off me. The other day, I simply sat on the step scratching one of their necks. When I stopped, he just stayed there beside me, lost in his own thoughts too, but still right beside me. And I smiled, thinking how easy it sometimes is to be taken back to beautiful memories while also enjoying a beautiful moment of now.
So today I am simply thanking all of the horses on the planet for their big hearts and for the joy they bring to so many, myself included. I send a prayer to other horses who are suffering mistreatment, neglect, or as a result of natural disasters. And I thank all of the wonderful people whose lives are devoted to horses in the best of ways.
Let us give thanks for beautiful animals. This is their planet too.
There are three horses on the farm, which is not many for the size of the place. But due to the mountain and numerous valleys and rises, they are some of the fittest horses I have seen. They are not fit in a way that racehorses are fit, where only certain muscles are worked consistently. These three are only occasionally ridden. Most of their life is spent simply enjoying the beauty of this place, up and down steep mountainsides, into the valleys and back up to the top again.
Unfortunately for me, they are not down at this end of the farm terribly often. Fortunately for me though when they are, they are straight to me for affection, pushing each other out of the way for one of my neck rubs.
While I was into as many sports as I could be when I was a young girl, eventually I ended up on the back of a horse. It was easier for my mother to have all the children doing the same sport, and since the majority wanted to be on horses, I was put on one too.
I loved them. Don't get me wrong. I just wasn't into gymkhanas and the public appearances as much as the others were. Happiest times for me were when I was riding bareback over paddocks, with my dog following not far behind.
On the weekend just gone, we headed over to my hometown to visit my parents. It was a beautiful time. As happens when I am back there, memories from my childhood flooded in. And as I looked at a road I once lived on, I thought about how blessed we were, in our generation and earlier ones, to have the freedom that life offered back then.
At only eight or nine years old, it was no big deal to ride my horse about three kilometres up the road to visit friends after school. There we would spend the afternoons on our horses, jumping over barrels and logs, or just hanging out with each other and our horses, as country kids did.
One time I had a fall and my horse took off, straight back down the road, all the way home without me. Not long after, my mother arrived in the car to collect me, relieved that I was fine. It didn't stop me riding up there again though on days soon after.
As a teenager, I would ride several kilometres after school to visit friends on neighbouring farms. It's hard to believe that 1980 is more than thirty years ago now, as it seems like only yesterday in a way. Those roads ridden were dirt and rarely frequented by traffic. Usually I rode without a saddle and meandered along at my own pace, my dog following beside me. Sometimes I would stop and lift her up to ride with me.
Over the course of years, there were a few different horses in my life. Nuggett was the first horse to come into our family. In hindsight we realised he had been drugged at the sale-yards, poor thing, as he was so subdued with a few kids on him when they showed him. When my father brought him home some hours later though, he was fiery and not happy to have four young kids sitting on his back. In fact, he was so unhappy about it, he threw every single one of us off into a pile of thistles! Welcome to the world of horse-riding. He turned out to be a great horse though and outlived all of the others that followed, living to more than thirty years old. Bless him.
Nicki was a little bay pony (brown with black mane and tail) and was one of the fastest horses about for sporting events. She was great to ride. But the horse I loved most was a grey gelding called Pride. He was already named when we bought him. And I loved him. Now as an adult with hindsight, I realise how graceful he was and how much he loved me too.
If I ever fell off, he always came straight back to me and waited, moving into positions that were easy for me to jump back on. He was happiest too when I rode bareback, no girth around his belt, our bodies connecting and fitting so naturally. I don't know if I have ever felt as free as I did during those teenage years, cantering bareback one paddock after another.
Then I'd slide off and sit under a tree, enjoying the peace of the furthest points of the farm. Pride would be happy, resting or eating beside me. Sometimes he would put his head down to my eye level and nudge me until I rubbed under his neck. And as I smiled to him, his eyes smiled back. He was a beautiful being.
These majestic beautiful animals are a blessing to have on the planet. We have much to learn through their wisdom. And it brings me relief to know that humans are now trying to understand them more, rather than trying to rule them with cruelty and the barbaric ways of days gone by. More and more natural horsemanship courses are available. And more people are coming to acknowledge the intelligence these creatures have.
(If you are a horse lover, or just curious, and want to watch something beautiful, google Dutch Horse Rescue and watch an event that happened about five years ago. It is heart lifting to see).
So while it is a few years since I've been on the back of a horse now, I find that with living here my needs are met in their own way. The horses on the farm know me and trust me, coming into the yard and demanding attention even if I am on the verandah.
And for whatever strange reasons, I am still always slow to wash my hands after they have been, reluctant to wash their smell off me. The other day, I simply sat on the step scratching one of their necks. When I stopped, he just stayed there beside me, lost in his own thoughts too, but still right beside me. And I smiled, thinking how easy it sometimes is to be taken back to beautiful memories while also enjoying a beautiful moment of now.
So today I am simply thanking all of the horses on the planet for their big hearts and for the joy they bring to so many, myself included. I send a prayer to other horses who are suffering mistreatment, neglect, or as a result of natural disasters. And I thank all of the wonderful people whose lives are devoted to horses in the best of ways.
Let us give thanks for beautiful animals. This is their planet too.
