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Isilmea's Journal



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Stone: Two Become One

19:31 Aug 03 2007
Times Read: 645


I would like to introduce you to my beloved horse Stone. This is an entry of the night Stone and I became one.



Starting out after full dark, wrapped and layered, blowing white breath into the unbelievable large, white, rising moon, we casually walked. We passed behind the house and through an open gate. Picking up a soft jog, we stayed to the edge of the field, proud that I was not unappreciative of the wonders of nature.



Into a lightly wooded section, the low, early moon throwing sharp, contrasting shadows with the bare tree trunks and branches, I slowed Stone’s pace. The trail widened and I nudged his gait back up, a little, and a little more. Keeping the pace, I tested Stone through a small patch of blackness, and then another, and as the trail twisted we headed up our little 'Mountain' at a big hard working trot, with a great blowing breath for each stride. The normally majestic view from the plateau was literally enchanting, and impossible to pass without pausing for a moment to honor the Creator of Nature.



Topping the crest, each of many silhouetted only instantly against the whiteness, Stone plunged over the edge, down the short side. Four hundred feet of loose rock and gravel, too steep to climb up, no stopping, no turning back, with the Moon at our backs, we dove into our own shadows. The long slide eased into a meadow. We crossed the grazing, trotting again and loping, pulling the reins, asking Stone for more as I angled to meet the usual trail. Adrenaline rushing, heads up and his tail flagging, Stone began a canter.



The trail, as it winds and dips, rambles through hoary trees, gnarled and twisted, hiding goblins or fairies, maybe trolls or sprites. Perhaps the old stories are true, of the Lovers, I wonder. The moon should be good tonight, to show Stone and I the tree’s that celebrates their names. But, pausing to graze, and to watch, they will keep their secrets, as will the chimney and hearth A secret hope dashed that the brilliance lighting my way could penetrate the years, at least give me the shadows of their stories.



By now the Moon is full up, the roads literally glowing, reflecting the suns light back to the moon. We Gallop across the back of the world, the undulating hills contracting and expanding that world, as we top each horizon then plunge, again, below it. The endless blanket of diamonds above us, never changing. I grew very warm, and open my jacket. It is a perfect night, absolutely clear and cool, with only a light breeze.



Coming out of the last thicket into the meadow, the moon is brighter, more welcome then ever, inviting another gallop, which we unequivocally accept. We answer the challenge of the brilliant night with wild abandon and Stone’s thundering hoofs. The bitter cold almost unbearable on bare skin, but welcomed by hard, fit muscles, doubly warmed by heavy winter coats and exhilarating work. Huge, expanding nostrils eagerly gulp the sharp, winter air. Usual bonds blur and fall away, limitless, we soar. As we travel in the ancient, yet ageless, timelessness that engulfs us, we intensify. The strength and the power of his four legs and large heart, the clarity and focus of his discerning mind, the complexity and wonderment of his, the unusual sensations of clothing and the chill on skin, the hold on the reins felt through gloves... did we merge into one? Did he absorb me, did he become me? Was there an exchange or did we simply touch and share as we are meant to do?



Coming back to reality... (or leaving it... ) alternating our lopes and trots, we finally pull down to a quiet walk and head back to the house.


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