Ridin', Reinin' and Writin'

Yesterday I rode down the hill from my house to check my property gates and fences. It was the first ride of the year for Legacy. I had pulled her out of the herd, saddled her and stepped on. She was all right with all of that, but when we left the buildngs, she missed her buddies. As we wound down the hill to the river field, she whinnied several times. The noise shattered the silence ... and the peace of my solitary ride.

After the fence check, I followed the bank of the river (the Chilcotin) for a stretch before heading home. I looked for the geese who nest there every spring, but didn't see them. Finally, the steady hum and the lapping of waves on two huge rocks in the river, worked its magic. Time slowed ... and stopped. I got off Legacy, tied her to the lone poplar by the river and sat on the bank. I should be living by this river, I thought.

The river has not risen yet, revealing banks strewn with rocks washed by millions of gallons of running water. I couldn't resist. I had to add to the little piles of river rock on the bank, piles I had made on other rides. I really didn't have time to dally by the river (My student would arrive in a half hour), but I did. With Legacy tied to the poplar, I walked along the banks looking for smooth flat ones until my arms were full. I even found a large piece of jade!

As I stumbled through the rocks, I felt like I was being watched. I was. When I looked up, I saw Legacy had company. Whisper and Silk, her pasture buddies, had joined us. All three silently stood on the bank staring down at me. The river had worked its magic on them too. They stood as one, in perfect harmony with nature and themselves.

Clutching the jade in one hand, I reluctantly mounted Legacy and walked away from the river. I'll be back.