And since it was Independence Day I decided we’d try a different trail today. So, after much debating, cajoling and flat out bribery, Bubba agreed. We rode for quite awhile and then we came around the bend and there on the ground were the sun bleached bones of some unidentifiable animal. I noticed the bones were scattered about and then I wondered if it had lived a good life and had died of natural causes and its’ remains were eaten by coyotes or did it die fighting for its’ life and Bubba and I were standing in the killers kitchen uninvited?
And then I thought maybe it wasn’t eaten at all, but had died and its’ body returned to the earth and come next spring it will resurrect itself into a beautiful flower. (Did I mention I think a lot out there alone? It cleanses my soul to be alone in nature. Perhaps that’s the same feeling some people get when they go to a church or a synagogue.) So, anyways.
For some reason this train of thought led me to think of Independence Day. The remains of that animal made me think of the remains of humans who came before me, and those that are laid to rest even today, who fought and still do, for my freedom. So that I can ride a horse, feel the warmth of the sun and the wind on my skin, enjoy the beauty of nature and ponder life’s mysteries out alone on a trial. And I felt proud to be an American.
Then I fed Bubba and gave him a bath. When I put him in his stall he had a good roll,
and then a long drink of water
and then he chatted with his neighbor.
So I left for home knowing he had had a good day. But first I stopped at a liquor store to get me a Dr. Pepper and I had the most fascinating conversation with an Arabic Christian. The conversation started over a t-shirt I was wearing that had a quote. He read it and we got to talking about religion which led to women in the Arabic world. Don't ask me how this happens, but it always does. He shared a story with me about a woman who was beheaded in a church because she was a stranger. “In a church,” he repeated. He told me that the citizens of the Arabic world," live in fear of men, not God and that women are treated worse than slaves." " We could not even be having this conversation in my country" he told me.
I left there feeling grateful to be an American.
5 comments:
Bubba looks so happy.
Your conversation with the Arabic Christian beats any that I've had with a stranger. The last guy selling me soda who struck up a conversation was toothless and about sixty with a thick Applachian accent and he kept insisting that I visit DollyWood. He wouldn't ring up my Sprite and Kit Kat until I promised that I would make a pilgrimage. I told him I would.
I never made the trip but I did get my soda. Sometimes it's best to lie.
Dollywood might be worth a pilgrimage.
This morning I had a fascinating conversation with an older gentleman while waiting for Kaiser pharmacy to open. We discussed overpopulation and studies among rats. They become quite violent when crowded.
Which, we agreed, explains new trends in violence like road rage.
Yes, Bubba is quite happy. He has the whole pasture to himself now.
I like that you take your camera with you when you ride to give all us lurkering no-longer-horsey types a vicarious thrill, Becky. It's beautiful to see the journey and Bubba enjoying pasture life.
ldp
I started taking pictures to show my husband what the trails were like in an attempt to tempt him to ride. He went once and he enjoyed it, bt it's not for everybody
And now I take my camera because I'm hoping to catch some wildlife.
Or some old bones.
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