I went to see Twilight, my mind was glazed over I had been sick all weekend, and was still under the weather. But it was a warm day, gloriously bright. A wind was blowing that kept everything fresh, moving, alive.
I climbed out of the car, already tired from the effort of driving. The ground seemed to be moving to fast under my feet, like I was walking on a conveyor belt instead of solidly packed dirt.
Twilight decided to have selective hearing and did not come in when I clucked to her. So I walked into the pasture over loose dirt that felt like quicksand. Once I walked over to her she butted her head against my chest, and I stumbled back.
You look awful.
Thanks.
I scratched her forehead, right under her nappy forelock, she leaned into my touch.
Twilight has been moving up in the ranking of horses in her pasture. At first she was at the bottom of the pack, subject to abusive scratch and bite marks from the other 10 to 15 horses.
But the herd has reshuffled, and Twilight has managed to rise above her previous proletariat class and become royalty. She is now the lead mare in her pasture, second only to Dubby a 20 year old gelding Thoroughbred.
As the new Queen Twilight has acquired a small entourage. A dainty palomino paint serves as her lady in waiting. She follows Twilight around like and idolizing puppy, always at her right flank. She is very shy and wary of me. Fragile and half wild.
Mask is an old companion of Twilight. He optimizes a true Southern Gentleman, or my image of one at least.
He is a dark blood red chestnut with a large blaze down his face that arches over his eyes, like a mask hence the nickname. His body is lean and muscular, and he walks with a lanky pleasant gait as if meandering along the banks of the Great Mississippi.
Mask's chivalry is his downfall, he will never scold Twilight when she drives him from their shared hay pile (they have dinner together on occasion), or tosses her head and glares at him.
I imagine he tolerates her profanity and arrogance in the same mild manner. Despite her flaws he will always accompany her to the gate when I come to fetch her on days he deems unsuitable for two ladies (I use the term loosely) to be walking without a male escort (he sometimes receives a small handful of grain for his troubles).
He is Twilight's knight.
After I finish massaging Twilight's face, and rubbing away all the tingling scratches she cannot reach I turned and began walking back in, not bothering to halter Twilight, I know she will follow me.
Of course since Mask and the dainty mare were with her she makes a show of walking a good distance away from me, acting as though she was the one choosing to leave the pasture and I had simply come to announcer her.
I chuckled to myself as the four of us picked our way slowly to the weathered green gate. Twilight patiently waited for me to open it then gracefully stepped out and allowed me to halter her.
Because of the rare spring like weather I decided to groom Twilight outside. I collected the brushes and took my time brushing her thick winter coat. I love the color, a mahogany brown highlighted with dark cherry and gold. Its like an earthy desert, appealing and tasteful to the eye.
I realized I could not remember the last time I had taken my leisure with grooming. I had little choice, since I was sick I had to take my time, it was peaceful.
Twilight's tail is always interesting to brush, I can not help but feel I am combing the long oiled strands of hair of a older gypsy woman, with thin beautiful hair and streamers of white and grey framing her face.
I knew I could not ride today, I was simply to tired. Instead I took Twilight to a small round corral and let her go.
She looked like a yearling tossing her head back and forth and looking over her shoulder inquisitively at me.
What are we doing exactly?
It was then that Julie walked over with her energized chestnut mare May. Twilight and I were captured as May rose up on her hind legs in eagerness to race around in a small enclosed pasture.
Her excitement was contagious. I decided to move Twilight to the larger arena.
The transformation was sudden, she no longer resembled a yearling but a grown and powerful Thoroughbred.
She arched her neck and snorted as I haltered her, prancing next to me as we slowly walked to the other arena.
It is a beautiful day! Where are we going? I'm impatient.
She danced around me, pawing the ground and snorting playfully. And I could not help but laugh at her.
In the arena she mischievously ran directly at me time and time again stopping only a foot away, and tossing her head.
Her movements became and elaborate ballet. Spinning and galloping along the fence line, holding her tail in the air, her rudder as she sailed over the sand.
Twilight ran until she exhausted herself. Her high social status forgotten she dropped down unceremoniously and rolled in the sand. Simply enjoying the moment to shed the disposition of a Queen and dance.
