Horseback Therapy

A few weekends ago I went horseback riding at Horse World with my grandparents and their seemingly adopted daughter, Donna. My grandpa treated me, claiming it was my birthday present. My birthday isn't until August, but I didn't have the heart to remind him, and I wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. (You loved the pun. Admit it.)

I took horseback riding lessons when I was a kid. I have distinct memories of walking into the stables and combing the horse's mane, waiting for the instructor to come help me with the saddle. I have a few other blurred memories of cantering around the arena, though I can't remember if I ever progressed to the level of a controlled gallop. But I remember the day I had to quit horseback riding: my mom told me that it was becoming too expensive, and I couldn't play soccer and ride horses. So, I chose to become a soccer player, which as I've written about before, laid the foundation for my adolescence.
My grandparents decided to pass on riding the horses once we arrived at the Horse World stables, so Donna and I met our guide and were soon saddled up and ready to ride.

Our guide led the way through the woods at a slow walking pace. Donna followed, and I brought up the rear. Hershey, my horse that afternoon, was a slow, 17 year-old horse, who had clearly been giving guided tours for many moons. She knew the sandy path well. Even when I tried to detour off the path, she pulled me right back on. "Hey now," she implied as she pulled under the reins. "You're breaking the rules."

I enjoyed the hour-long tour, basking in the warm sun and listening to the various bird calls in the woods. Occasionally, the conversation between Donna and our guide floated back to me, but I purposely fell behind to lose myself in nature and the soothing rhythm of Hershey's trit-trot. A simple visit to nature's therapeutic realms always leaves me feeling calm and refreshed.