Young mare, on the full-moon night you were born, we recognized one another. It was an awkward kinship of un-belonging, both of us being more like the other than either of us were like our mothers. No baby talk or embraces, we each stood squarely as equals, never anyone's little girl. You were a coppery redhead, eyes ringed with white, a reverse racoon, and your body followed suit before the season changed. I took to silver before my time too. It isn't flattering in my human world but it's not our way to contritely bow our heads or apologize for our nature. Last night, not thinking, I brought the geldings in before you. With a sharp angle to your brow, you blurted out a snort as vehement as a sonic boom. The arc of your neck outraged, your furious hooves took flight, barely able to reach the ground, galloping one churning circle after another. Yes, you're right. So, I waited at the gate. The geldings don't respect you yet, but I do. I'll hold this space for you, as mares have done for me. Today, my sister, I'll be humbled by your metallic strength and raw pride. We stride this earth together, but mares take the light and prance; not placated, not born to be mere pedestrians.
Solstice in Scotland: We’re in process of planning a series of clinics in June 2018. If you would like to host a clinic or attend a clinic, please contact me here.
Anna Blake at Infinity Farm
Horse Advocate, Author, Speaker, Equine Pro
(WordPress Photo Challenge is a weekly prompt to share a photo–I enjoy twisting these macro prompts to share our micro life here on the Colorado prairie. I take these photos with my phone, on my farm. No psych, definitely not high-tech.)