Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes

I don't remember the exact reason behind it but one day my mother informed me that we would not be traveling out to Saddle bred anymore and that Gretchen had relocated once again to another stable. I was slightly surprised by the sudden change, unsure of the reasoning behind the move and wondering if I would ever see any of the horses I had grown so fond of again. Sting, Miss Ali, Griffin, Mark, Jack O' Lantern, Navarre, the red colt who had followed me like a puppy.
At the same time I was thrilled at the prospect of moving somewhere new, with a fresh scenery, and different horses to be acquainted with.
A few days later I could hardly contain my curiosity, I was going to have a lesson at the new boarding facility. The drive was at least half an hour shorter than the drive out to Saddle bred, but to me if felt years longer. The car wove down residential roads and busy streets, and I felt my anticipation growing into apprehension. This could not be the right way, how could there be any horses in a neighborhood a few yards away from one of the main roads of Boise? The car ride finally ended across from a shabby apartment complex complete with extravagant displays of overgrown plants winding down square balcony railings, and a collection of wind chimes composed of broken shards of colored glass.
Slowly I turned my head to see where I would be riding for the next two or so years. It was like falling into a fairytale. There was a riding arena a foot away from the road, with symmetrical square poles and fencing, and filled with white sand, the kind of sand one would find on a seclusive tropical beach instead of a riding arena. To the left was a fence dowsed with thick curls of ivy like plants and a green lawn which surrounded a two story house painted robin egg blue with white trimmings on all the windows and doors. nestled behind the house was a paddock in which two retired Thoroughbred horses a chestnut and black bay leaned contentedly against each other. Adjacent to the paddock was a old classic barn, which slouched in the dirt worn with age, the red paint was faded and the white edges were more of a grey than white, but it gave character to the small slice of horse heaven in the middle of an urban neighborhood.
This place was certainly not as extravagant as Saddle bred and did not even come close to the spectrum of facilities available there, but it was warm and honest. Worn down to the very bones of what horse back riding should be. The only disappointment was I the lack of familiar horses, the only two horses I could see were the sweet old Thoroughbreds and they were strangers to me. Gretchen walked out to meet us dressed in sun bleached jeans and comfortable boots, with her monstrous Great Dane Derek bounding along beside her. Derek was always with Gretchen, like a enormous black shadow always following her. His size was intimidating but in truth he was a coward. He only barked if he was sure the thing he was challenging wouldn't bark back. Every time my mom came to watch me ride Derek would approach her turn himself around and sit on her lap. So she would patiently wait through the entire lesson with over a hundred pounds of dog parked on her lap.
Gretchen walked us around the new grounds till we reached a side paddock that had been hidden behind an old tack room. To my extreme delight two old friends greeted us at the fence, Miss Ali and Sting. I rushed under the fence, which caused both horses to jerk their heads back in alarm, the whites of their eyes showing. But I didn't care. I was home, the winds of change had calmed for the time being and I was back in golden familiarity