To Race with your Beast against a Storm

My horse smelt of dust and hay.
Strongly so, even on such a cold winter morning.
I leaned in to soak it up, my hand gliding down his strong neck and whispered my hello.
My father had already tightened his saddle and after jostling with the reins and bit, I led my horse out of the stable to meet his.
Our breath competed for clouds hitting the chilled tight air.
One hop and pull and I was up.
As high as Dad.
We decide to take our time that morning, traversing through the forest.
Loose armed and legs hanging lazily off the sides of our safe treading animals.
We headed down to the river, knowing it would be deserted in this weather and took lefts and rights off forked paths that lead into valleys.
And we talked.
We talked about my schoolwork,
all the things I wished to be
and the things he’d wish for me.
When we hit the thick fog at the bank of the river and felt the earth soft under the hooves, he turned to me with a slight tilt of the head.
“Let’s race it to the end!”
My heartbeat accelerated even before my horse did and I dug my heels into its flanks to shock it out of its trance, my fists clenched tightly into its mane
and off
we
were.
The ice in the wind roughened up my cheeks to a crisp red and demanded tears from my eyes that travelled back and out of my face, mingling with my hair flailing wildly behind me.
I thought about the advantages I had over my father.
(Just a small girl with new legs, still strong and determined.)
I thought of how proud he would be to see me pull up and take charge,
headstrong into the bitter,
the cold,
the destination,
ahead,
ahead,
ahead.
to the end of this freak scene.
Of how he would be able to loosen his reins with a smile, seeing me so far ahead of him.

But I got lost in the moment.
Let the beast beneath me take me for its own ride.
Listened closely
to its tremor,
its breath,
it’s beat.

I closed my eyes and smiled.
Intoxicated with the rhythm,
the speed,
the smells,
the scenery.

And when I opened them again,
I realized with a sinking heart.

I was never quite able to catch up with him.