Room to Breathe

I'm hoping the tip tap click of keys will put me in a sleepy mood.  I am full of thoughts about the game of chance and directional shifts, the unlikelihood that we would be able and willing enough to step into the change at the precise moment it happened by.

Horse property. Learning to can fruit and sit out back in the evenings with the rustle of life all around. Listening to the hum of the saw from the workshop and the dog chasing ground squirrels along the back fence. I have dreamt all my life of open space, without the clutter of noise echoing off their houses into mine. It is not for everyone, solitude, and we will see if it is for us, if given the chance for the keys.

I can almost remember the first time 'horse' was put in little chubby letters on my Christmas list. My parents threw back their heads and laughed. But I meant it. I meant it more than anything else. Horse gifts came in a lot of forms, stuffed animals and plastic horses jumping over fences for my dresser, and horseshoe pins to wear. Eventually it became horseback rides when I was older, and the adventures of trying to steer an animal who knew the routines and trails better than I. But I never outgrew it.

And now that life has advanced me to GO, the potential of a horse is all I wanted. The choice. Nowadays, it is the respite from our busy and frantic lives, with commuting, and deadlines, and endless demands until we clock out and head home to somewhere with room to breathe. It is the space.