Being around horse will always remind me of my Grandpa. He had a shed on his farm that was full of saddles and leather. As a kid, I would sneak in there when he was in the house talking,and imagine what it would be like to be so accomplished that I could ride a horse like he could. Then I would go to the horse pens, jump on a horse, bare-back, and ride around while no one was looking.
Dominique was 17. At 17, she was in control of her horse, and had this effortless grace with him. I was in awe. She walked with him, side by side, steps in tune, and he would nibble on the grass as she rubbed his neck. A late evening of sun and settling dust, and we laughed and walked. It was good to be with horses again, and to laugh with cousins.