Riding Flyer

[april]

It’s too perfect a day to describe. The sun is shining down and the birds are singing, and I feel good for no reason I can describe. It’s just a feel good day. A Spring day. I start singing as I ride Flyer bareback down the trails. “Sunshine, on my shoulders - makes me happy. Sunshine, in my eyes - can make me cry, sunshine, on the water - looks so lovely. Sunshine, almost always - makes me high.” The gorgeous beyond words colt under me gives a whinny that sounds as happy as I feel. The next verse sums up how I feel about the day, and all the people and horses I care about. “If I had a day that I could give you,I’d give to you a day just like today. If I had a song that I could sing for you, I'd sing a song to make you feel this way.” We ride down the trails together, feeling peaceful yet full of energy. We come to an open field just off the trails, and like Flyer and I love I let him open up like he were on a race track, running for no reason other than for the fun of it. We both love racing, but running for pure fun is wonderful too. His long stride seems to be begging to carry us into the sky, and although I didn’t think it were possible, our joy at just being alive is even greater than it was a couple hours ago. Flyer lives to run, and he’s never happier than when we go tearing through the fields like this. Riding bareback makes it all the better and it’s like our connection is even stronger this way than whenever I rode him before. I can’t even describe the connection. It’s simply unreal. I keep my hands light as its possible too, and my reward is feeling a grace in his movements that even a ballerina couldn’t match. I think he’d love to go on like this forever, but I know he can’t, so after awhile I pull him up, as reluctant for it to end as he is. He paws at the ground, anxious to keep going. I laugh and say “Don’t you ever get tired of running?” He shakes his head, making me laugh all the more. We take a long tour of the trails through the woods and fields as I cool him out on the way home. I stroke Flyer’s beautifully arched neck, and he knickers his thanks and crab steps lightly under me.