Rain fell fast and hard on the dry, thirsty ground. The
horse beneath me tensed as skies above rumbled and growled. The mare’s drenched
hair-coat made my seat slick upon her bare back. My hands grasped long heavy hairs
of mane. Rain poured ran into my eyes,
causing the surrounding terrain to blur in my vision.
This was Sunday evening.
After church that morning, I had gone home to complete my remaining
English assignments. Just as I finished an assignment, I noticed a dimming of
the light coming through the south facing windows. The cloud patterns where changing
from small wisps of white to robust angry blue. Tree branches began blowing in
the wind. Opening my bedroom window I could smell petrichor - a pleasant scent
that accompanies the first rain after a dry spell.
The ground had been dusty and brown for some time now. My
heart began to pound and my mind raced at the prospect of rainfall. In a moment
of spontaneity, I decided to go outside and soak up some rain. Once in our yard,
I realized my own body could not dance or run with enough vigor to express my
internal delight. The answer hung with a horses bridle and bit, which I grabbed
from behind the barn door.
With long strides, I quickly closed the distance between me
and the north pasture gate. Scaling the gate, I eyed the three family equines. Approaching
the horses, drizzle was falling and claps of thunder where resounding. All three
horses tossed their heads at my advance. Rivey, the tall sorrel mare, turned to
face me and seemed to know I was coming to fetch her as my ride. Stepping away
from me, she expressed distaste for the idea. A low hiss from my lips gave her a
well-known signal, telling her stop and yield to my request. She exhaled a
hyped breath causing her nostrils to quiver. Moving to her side with the bridle
she dropped her head in contemplation of the coming bite. After slipping the
cool, steel, bar into her mouth, I led her back toward the gate. Drops of water
became heavier and my heart’s pass quickened.
Once beyond the pasture, I griped a handful of Rivey’s mane
and hoisted my body onto her bare back. Instantly, Rivey strode out in
anticipation of my plans. Taking the wet leather reins in my palms, I directed her
anxious body toward the gravel lane. Rivey’s front feet left the ground as she
shifted her weight and brought powerful hindquarters beneath her. My lungs could barely expand enough as her
legs pounded under me; Rivey’s strides were full of spirit and vigor. In seconds, we reached the gravel road and
took a right-hand turn.
As we ran, I blinked at the lightening flashing above us. In
this moment, the horse’s energy was the only thing able to match my ecstasy in
the falling rain. From deep within me, a
short, sharp shrill escaped my lips. Were it not for fingers wrapped around
leather and mane, my arms would have been waving above my head. The rain changed
to a heavy downpour as I pulled my steed to a halt. In the middle of the road, Rivey pranced and
arched her neck with nostrils flared.
Rain poured over my
face and eyes, drenching every layer of clothing covering my body. “Thank you,
dear Heavenly Father!” I shouted up at the thundering skies. Turning my prancing
mount toward home, I watched as the surrounding terrain receded behind sheets
of rain. Leaning forward on Rivey, I gave her free rein. With one swift stride,
strong haunches lurched forward beneath me. At the sudden forward advancement, my
firm grip of mane kept me from sliding off her back. My eyes became blurred in the driving rain,
but then I realized tears of joy were also to blame.
In a few minutes, Rivey and
I arrived back in our soggy yard. In the pasture, I slipped the bridle from her
head. Rivey loped away to greet awaiting pasture buddies. Soaked from head to toe and grungy with horse
hair and mud, I walked toward the house. I inhaled deeply of the fresh petrichor
and then, exhaled with overflowing joy.
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