Horsekeeping (51 page)

Jane worked tirelessly with the restored Peaches and won her first dressage show. Untethered from the longe line she took the blue in Introductory level against mostly adult riders. We were so proud of both horse and human; they had come such a long way. Jane, too, is already outgrowing her second pony, but trusty Cleo stands ready to teach her the next skills. Currently she rides both, a real horsewoman. That my kids are so brave and increasingly skillful is ten times better than my reaching any of these milestones. Jane, Elliot and I appreciate the riding and the barn life of horsekeeping more and more, though we have
managed to contain competition to our own and local events. Scott, however, never did reach for his tucked away riding gear: at least not yet.

In May, on our forty-ninth birthday weekend, Scott and I set out on our regular walk through the fields and woods. The hay was nearly ripe for the first cutting, and the morning dew steamed in the pre-summer sun. Still snug in Wellies and polar fleece but absorbing hints of heat between the breezes, we watched an early bird rider trailing on white Willy. His haunches rocked and his tail swished lazily against the swaying grass: a picture perfect scene.

“Isn't it glorious to ride on horseback through this property?” I mused, pushing ever so lightly my hope of Scott taking the plunge.

“It's pretty glorious on your feet, too,” my unapologetically earth-planted husband reminded me.

I had to agree. And though I longed to be saddled on my horse trailing the mist and a rising sun, Scott pulled me back to him, and I was grateful. The image of another woman on an actual horse and the
thought
of me on one while I safely enjoyed the land at my husband's side was beautiful, and enough at that moment. There is a time for riding and a time for this, and they are both good. The farm initially evoked a lover's passion, novel and exciting in comparison to our nearly thirty years together, but there is no substitute for long-lived human companionship—love and friendship combined. I regretted any selfishness over the past few years that excluded him from the kids' and my adventure, and reconciled myself to the fact that he probably wouldn't ever ride and that we would stick to walking and riding (bikes, that is) together.

Copyright © 2011 Roxanne Bok

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A TWIN LAKES PRESS BOOK

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eISBN : 978-1-935-21277-5