As a child - I wanted nothing other than to spend my summers with horses.

Riding them.

Brushing and grooming them.

Feeding them - apples and carrots. Filling their stalls with fresh hay.

I loved their strength...their stature...their grace and their power. I loved how they smelled. I loved how warm their coats felt to my touch.

I was a girl - like so many others - enamored by their beauty.

I could tell you stories of my younger days. How I swam with them in the northern rivers and lakes.

How I slept with them beneath an umbrella of endless stars. How I felt so wild and free - riding them across the open fields.

And how soft and gently quiet it was to catch our breaths - together - while slowly walking in the mossy shade.

I could tell you about the lessons learned. The respect they earned. And how hard it was to get back up and in that saddle. Time after time. Day after day. No matter what. We began again.

Today - I'm remembering those summers filled with those horses. I sometimes dream. I often imagine.

I'm searching and seeking and looking - insides and out - for that brave girl who wished only to spend her summers with horses.