Horses thunder across pastures and plains, their galloping hooves striking earth as they fly over grasses. Their sides heave in and out, like a bellows, powering their spark and fanning white heat in each stride.

Horses sigh. Muzzles quiver. Whiskers tickle my skin as warm breath hits the palm of my hand and a wet tongue lunges out looking for the treat. He grinds it back and forth, slobbering bits onto my hand and the ground. His nostrils widen, snuffling for more.

When I ride, everything else fades away. My horse is more honest than any human ever was or even thought of being. Riding is my way to let go and unwind. Everything in my world that is rude, annoying, disappointing, or tries to cut me to shreds becomes so small and insignificant as to not even exist on the back of my Indian horse.

Some people  have a connection with horses and you can see it in the simple easy way they move when they’re around horses. They have a quiet about them and a spirit that is gentle and firm. Sometimes they are riders too, but not always. Horses sense it and find calm even in the midst of panic. This isn’t to say that the relationship is always smooth sailing, but the understanding is there.