The Texas flag hangs motionless on this crisp, moist April morning. Highlighted by the rising sun, the ridgeline of the hills on the other side of the large stockpond, glow with a rising intensity and I imagine the warmth as it slides down the hillside as if I were standing there. Pinks, purples and lavender change and shift before my eyes. The bird songs become more active. Fog lazily slides along the top of the pond to disappear as the heat of the morning grows in intensity.
I will ride today, a horse I have only met a few times. She carries a wisp of a girl in endurance races for her day job but today she will carry me. Not so wispy but willing to be balanced and not a burden as we navigate new terrain. The mare’s ancestors hail from the great land of sand, Arabia. Her large eyes and nostrils will smell new smells and see new surroundings, her intelligence showing itself with each flick of a rotating ear toward a new sight or sound.
By the time we finish, the day will have warmed and encouraged me to shed my light jacket but I am getting ahead of myself.
The sun is still on the ridgeline and I have twenty-one miles to go.