If you went down the front path and to the road, then over the guard rail and down the cliff to the rocks, there was a particular rock that with some imagination turned into a horse. I went there every day, climbed on, and rode off.
Sometimes it was a cowboy's horse, a painted pony with a feisty nature, always wanting to take the reins and run. Sometimes it was a fiery black steed, gallant and heroic, always winning the race against impossible odds. Other times it was stallion, proud and sure footed, who flew across the desert at speed unknown to man. Always it was a friend who waited patiently for me to mount, take the reins, and travel to places far away and mysterious, then bring me safely home. I rode for hours at a time, solitary and completely happy, as only a child can ride in her imagination.
Passing fisherman waved from their boats, yelling encouragement and warnings not to fall. The incoming tide lapped at the horse's hooves and we went faster and faster until we outran it. We rode like the wind, horse and rider in sync against the world. My grandmother's calls went unheard, the fishing boats faded into blurred images, the ocean itself opened to make way. No one could catch us on the rocks and no harm could come to us. We found shells and kelp and small sea creatures, starfish and snails and tiny things swimming in the tide pools. Seagulls flocked overhead, gliding effortlessly against the sky, following the fishing boats as they headed out and again as they returned. We crossed the cove at low tide and at a full gallop, headed for the pastures and hills above St. Mary's Bay. Villagers stood aside, amazed at the sight. The horse seemed to fly, like Pegasus, and I held his mane tightly and urged him on and upward, over the trees and the water and into the clouds. The world was far away, the island a tiny speck below us, lost in a vast ocean churning with with whitecaps and waves. We flew toward it and the mighty horse pranced on the surface of the water, delicate and free, outstretched wings gliding us toward shore.
We won every competition, every event and every race. We rode on the beach and the dusty dirt roads, jumped every fence and cleared every obstacle, always with time and room to spare. We rode into forests and mountains and crossed streams and bridges. We outran fire and got places before the wind. And at the end of the day when the sun began to fall and the sky turned all the sunset colors, we rode home together. Oh, to have such a horse again
for one more ride.
Sometimes it was a cowboy's horse, a painted pony with a feisty nature, always wanting to take the reins and run. Sometimes it was a fiery black steed, gallant and heroic, always winning the race against impossible odds. Other times it was stallion, proud and sure footed, who flew across the desert at speed unknown to man. Always it was a friend who waited patiently for me to mount, take the reins, and travel to places far away and mysterious, then bring me safely home. I rode for hours at a time, solitary and completely happy, as only a child can ride in her imagination.
Passing fisherman waved from their boats, yelling encouragement and warnings not to fall. The incoming tide lapped at the horse's hooves and we went faster and faster until we outran it. We rode like the wind, horse and rider in sync against the world. My grandmother's calls went unheard, the fishing boats faded into blurred images, the ocean itself opened to make way. No one could catch us on the rocks and no harm could come to us. We found shells and kelp and small sea creatures, starfish and snails and tiny things swimming in the tide pools. Seagulls flocked overhead, gliding effortlessly against the sky, following the fishing boats as they headed out and again as they returned. We crossed the cove at low tide and at a full gallop, headed for the pastures and hills above St. Mary's Bay. Villagers stood aside, amazed at the sight. The horse seemed to fly, like Pegasus, and I held his mane tightly and urged him on and upward, over the trees and the water and into the clouds. The world was far away, the island a tiny speck below us, lost in a vast ocean churning with with whitecaps and waves. We flew toward it and the mighty horse pranced on the surface of the water, delicate and free, outstretched wings gliding us toward shore.
We won every competition, every event and every race. We rode on the beach and the dusty dirt roads, jumped every fence and cleared every obstacle, always with time and room to spare. We rode into forests and mountains and crossed streams and bridges. We outran fire and got places before the wind. And at the end of the day when the sun began to fall and the sky turned all the sunset colors, we rode home together. Oh, to have such a horse again
for one more ride.
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