August Again

“When August burning low / Arise this spectral Canticle..”  – Emily Dickinson

It is the end of what I suspect is my last vacation of the year, maybe the last vacation for a long time…. Who knows what the future holds?

I took the week thinking it would be cooler Mid-August, but it is New England, after all, and it has been as hot, if not hotter, than the week I took in July.  Heat limited ride time- I admit, I’m a wimp.  Heat bothers me. When we did work, it was to master obstacles hung with shiny, metallic fringe in prep for a versatility in two weeks.

We did sneak in a 10 miler in Ware. It was cool in the woods and we returned before the full force of sun hit.

I was exhausted and slept for hours.  I rarely nap and suspect root cause was a bit of heat exhaustion.

We also lost a $70 boot in the mud- another sign of strange August weather. Usually by now the mud is long forgotten. Not that Jigs needs boots. His feet are so hard that abscesses pop out his coronary.

This morning I am sitting at the car dealer getting an oil change and two new tires.  It’s a luxury to be able to sit and not stress about having to “be somewhere.”  Isn’t it odd I’m enjoying a trip to the car dealer?

It feels like most of my life has been lived in a constant state of stressing about where I have to be, what I have to do. It’s exhausting. And yet, I have no right to complain. I know others have not had the opportunities I have and I am grateful for my life.

So, if there is a little too much heat on my week off, I won’t complain; I’m just happy for any time with the red pony.  And I suspect he is grateful the chance to grab a bit of grass when he thinks I am not paying attention.

Explore posts in the same categories: poetry of apaul

Tags: aging, aging gracefully, growing up, horse crazy, horse ownership, horses, jigs, trail riding

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