Horses are always a highlight of any trip to visit Grandma and Grandpa Muir.
After watching the Littles (that's what I call our children) have their fun, I was eager for a try.
I laced up riding boots and climbed into the saddle, happily inhaling the rich smell of saddle leather.
Visions of a peaceful jog through picturesque pastures danced in my mind as I gathered the reins and began to ride.
I quickly found out this horse preferred children to adults.
My ride (if it can be even called as much) lasted less than 5 minutes.
She definitely did NOT want me on her back.
After lots of tight circles and jumping starts and battles of will, I was sufficiently frightened to hop off again.
My communion with nature ended in sheepishness (pun totally intended) as I handed the reins back to my Dad and let him take charge of this stubborn creature.
For the remainder of our visit, I was happy to hand-feed her sweet grass and admire her from afar.
1 comment:
Yeah, Nature is always nicer in the abstract. Paintings of a forest evoke feelings of cool, magical glades with dryads. The reality involves hot, dirty bugs.
Diego looks so cute in that hat, though!
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