Your Horse’s Story, by You
Orion pushed with his chest, a foreign concept for the bright chestnut stallion as he labored through the snow. He was tiring, but he knew the way home, and he knew he had to move forward to get there. His rider pushed him, encouraging him with a cluck, a tap from the crop, and a strong bump with the legs, “Come on, git over that snow bank,” his rider shouted between his teeth. Orion trusted him. His mind could never entertain anything differently. This human had been there at his birth. The scent of human and milk and barn were his first impressions as he had entered the world. Now he was being challenged to reach deep and find a part of himself he knew he was ready to become.
My story of Black Willow Orion
The yawning ridge seemed a catch-all for the snow drifts that needed a home today as I rode through them. There were a lot of them too, converging like giant teeth along the outlet of the trail. This open field, on top of the mountain, was also where the mighty Wind Giant blew snow devils around you as you rode through. “Who do you think you are, way out here?” the mini-squalls seem to slowly whisper. What I said back to ‘em ain’t too polite either. I’m always cold by this point on the trail, my knees a bit stiff, but I’m exhilarated by the experience. The body heat sent to me through the warm steam from my horse seems to shroud me; a halo of protection through this new world to keep me brave. The deadening quiet of winter, the profound stillness of the landscape, the stark whiteness that chills your heart, everything so deathly asleep it seems... this moment has consumed me.
By Jeff Wilson
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