I sat on the back porch watching a yellow horse mill around in the arena.
Intrigued I walked out and sat next to the water barrel next to him and we sipped our beverages together.
I sat there from an interesting point of view. Watched his throat move and felt his breath on my face.
I tipped my coffee back and drank my cup dry and set it in the dirt.
I sat thinking about how much I love the feeling of a horse beneath me.
Then the urge to ride pushed me too my feet, but not quite far enough to get a halter.
So with a hand rested on his whither and one on his back I jumped and flopped like a fish until I had a leg on each side, a head in front, a rump in back and not so much as a halter on a refined little head.
And I drove him out.
We walked around and it felt so free yet so sophisticated.
I moved him close to the rail then turned into the middle.
I asked for a trot and played with the mane that wrapped around my fingers.
Then "whoa." and I felt his feet sink and asked him to back. And he did.
Turned him around and trotted again.
It felt so good to be able to control his whole body with no saddle, no bridle. Only trust.
Sitting on his back I watched his ears listening intently and felt him trying to understand each thing my legs and body asked him for.
Who knew that a hot cup of coffee and a lazy streak would lead to one of the best feelings in the world. You didn't know your heart could smile.