Moments in the Snow: A Winter Ride and January Thoughts

The snow crunches underneath my boots as I cross the paddock and enter the pasture. I carry a blue halter in one hand and a wooden stool in the other. The single-digit temperatures haven’t given me much time for riding and other than climbing on Dolly’s back for a few minutes on New Year’s Day, I  haven’t been able to ride much lately. But today the sun was shining, the wind had slowed and I didn’t plan on missing out. Dolly sees me coming; her ears come forward and her eyes follow me. I pull an animal cracker from my coat pocket (one of her favorite treats) which she eagerly accepts. The feel of her velvety muzzle on my hand never gets old.

“Are you up for a ride, girl?” I ask as I slip her halter on. “What do you think?”

She lowers her head as I buckle the halter and I take that as a yes. I set the stool down beside her and used that to mount. With Dolly, I don’t need a saddle or even a bridle for a ride. I often ride her bareback and with only a halter. I think that’s her favorite way to ride.

As I climb onto her back and run my hands through her mane - ah, I don’t know if I can fully describe the feeling. Like a sip of hot cocoa on a cold morning. The refreshing coolness of ice water in the summer. Like rereading a favorite book with a cup of tea or coming to your favorite scene in a movie with a bowl of popcorn. Like being wrapped in the hug of a loved one. An old friend and a new dream. A thrill, a calmness, the familiar, and a newness - all wrapped into one. That is how I feel when I settle onto Dolly’s back and pick up the reins. 

Dolly is ready to go. She begins to walk the moment I cue her with my legs. We slowly walk down the arena fenceline. The world is so quiet today, so peaceful and still. We cross into the next pasture. The snow covers it with a smooth blanket of white, the only tracks so far are that of a deer bounding through. Dolly’s hooves send out a small spray of snow with each step. As we passed the round pen, Dolly tossed her head.

“Faster?” I ask and lean forward.

She responds by going into a trot. We glide through the snow-covered grass, leaving a ribbon of tracks behind us. We weave. We circle. We pause. The light sparkles on the snow. It glistens on the ice that covers our pond beyond the fence. It’s beautiful. It’s perfect.

There’s just something about January that turns the mind to thought of beginnings - and where those beginnings have brought us thus far. Where are you today? Are you celebrating a huge step? Or just, like me, enjoying a small moment that took huge steps (or a lot of little steps!) to achieve? Either way, don’t forget how you got there. I mean in reality it was the dreams of a five-year-old  (https://theamazinggracesta.wixsite.com/letsride/post/sixteen-years-and-a-dream-my-journey-to-horses) that brought me here, to this moment: sitting on my perfect Dolly, looking across a land wrapped in winter’s finery. I am so blessed.

Dolly begins to fidget and I am roused from my musing. I guide her back towards the barn. She wants to run, but I hold her in. She’s older now and I don’t want to risk her slipping in the snow. She slows her pace and we walk gently, retracing our tracks back through the pasture, the gate, and into the next pasture. Instead of going directly back to the barn, I guide her back to where we started, where the mounting block my talented brother built sits. I slip off her back and she sighs as I rub her neck.

“Thanks for the ride, Doll-girl. It felt good, didn’t it?” I lift the reins over her head and unbuckle the halter, sliding it off her face. “Did you like it, too?”

Dolly nuzzles my shoulder and I stroke her side. 

“Want to head back now? I’ll get you, Cutter, and Reina some more hay.”

Dolly tosses her head. She looks at me for a moment and then takes off. So much for being careful. She lopes across the pasture - and she doesn’t look or move like an older horse. No, she looks like an excited two-year-old filly who’d just been turned out to exercise. After all the times I’ve spent worried about her, she’s ready to prove she’s still in her prime.

I feel laughter bubble over and I can’t seem to stop. I try to run after her, but carrying the halter, reins, and stool hinders any speed and I give up. Dolly runs into the paddock and turns to look for me. She snorts and tosses her head as if to say, “Hurry up, slow-poke!”

The cold air burns in my lungs and my fingers are slightly numb, but still, I laugh. I’m so glad I came out to ride, so glad I get to have these horses in my life. I finally reach the paddock and all three horses nicker and head into their stalls. They line up by their feeders. They know they’re about to get a snack and they are ready for it. I put hay in each feeder and listen to the soothing sounds of their munching. Dolly glances at me as I pass her stall. I stroke her face.

“You’re an amazing girl, you know that?”

I head toward the house and meet my brothers and sister on the driveway.

“Want to go sledding?” They ask. 

I smile and nod, and off we go. Because if there is anything riding a horse teaches you, it’s to grab and embrace the present. And that’s when we’ll find how precious it is.