Dad did know a thing or two about horses and was a great horseman. We always had horses at grandma’s property. Every Saturday growing up, Dad took me riding. It was just me and him. I was on a horse from the time I was 2.
Those Saturdays were special between father and daughter. We had time to talk riding along side by side on the country roads. Talk of birds, trees, how water rolls over the rocks in streams, and some important thoughts during the ride would tumble out to discuss. In Dad’s wisdom he knew that you needed to let conversation breath and some things would “just happen” if not forced. Even today the smell of horse poop will instantly make all the worries in my world disappear.
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