My love for horses, like most girls, started rather young. Then I met my best friend at the age of nine, and she lived on a small horse farm. I was hooked. We groomed them, fed them, galloped them, even competed with them. Granted, they were homegrown competitions involving twinkies and bike helmets, but we loved our time together… both my dear friend and the horses :) At one point, my family started taking day trips to the Saratoga Race Track in Saratoga Springs, NY where we were each given $10, of which my dad had to make our bets for us; bets called according to the horses name or color. There may have been some strategy involved in this most recent, more “adult” day to the races. . . although we still lost our money, so I wouldn’t put too much stock in the stats. In any case, different worlds, these small town farms and high society stables. Riding western in a dusty paddock versus english saddles pushing each horse to her limit. Even so, the love for these exquisite creatures has always remained. Though now I am far from any rural New York horse farms and haven’t ridden along the wooded trails in years, every glimpse of a horse keeps me mesmerized by their beauty.
“Do you give the horse its strength or clothe its neck with a flowing mane? Do you make it leap like a locust, striking terror with its proud snorting? It paws fiercely, rejoicing in its strength, and charges into the fray. It laughs at fear, afraid of nothing; it does not shy away from the sword. The quiver rattles against its side, along with the flashing spear and lance. In frenzied excitement it eats up the ground; it cannot stand still when the trumpet sounds.” Job 39:19-24
