In Wales I loved watching them quenching their thirst whenever we stopped halfway through rivers. In Switzerland I love watching them eat. That gives a meditative effect of some sort.
I'm envious of their muscles not in the feet but in the lips, upper and lower. Soft but muscular. They articulate what I can only do with my hands.
Horses are blessed in several ways:
L'Abbayehere, I have the chance to ride regularly, to brush the horses and get to understand them. Here, I am finally convinced that the horse I'm on may panic anytime switching from a slow walk to a gallop in split second -- which is my part to discern and my power to avert.[for GPS sake] |
Brecon Beaconsthe mountain range taught me contours as I rode. I acknowledged this episode in my thesis. Tom navigated mountains ever-willingly. I adored watching him drink from the river - an experience not replicated till this day.my Welsh stories [for GPS sake] |
Ipohwhere I first rode. A Malay gentleman, a joki, whom I respect, used to take me out on the racing track on non-racing Saturdays. Once, a rider and his horse galloped pass from the opposite direction, in beautiful balance pace by pace. A spectacular manifestation I can't forget.my hometown [for GPS sake] |
Woodstreet Villagemost of the time it was a group riding round and round the school. Once, once, we went into the woods, through thick branches and trees. I remember that unique height and angle by which my eyes caught theirs. From then on woods draw me in wherever they are.[for GPS sake] |
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