Today I'll be horseback riding, instead of yoga. I'll be working muscles that neither walking or yoga can touch.
. . . and then I'll be walking funny tomorrow. Just saying.
It's been many, many years since I had to sell Buster, but I do miss the smell of manure, hay, leather and that special spicy aroma that is pure horse.
Yes, there is something to that, romance writers!
When I read my first dragon story by Ann McCaffery, I hadn't ridden a horse. Checking out all the Walter Farley books from the library over and over again satisfied a need at the time.
Oh, I wanted to ride.
But growing up, we simply didn't have the money. No matter what anyone says, owning a horse is an expensive proposition even if you have your own land--hay, farrier and vet bills come immediately to mind, not including the initial investment of the horse, equipment, saddle, and supplies. It all adds up.
I never had the chance to ride a horse until I was in my early twenties. There is a learning curve just like any new skill. It took me two years to finally figure out that when my trainer was screaming at me, "put your heels down!" she actually meant, "sink your weight into your heels."
It's all in how you word it.
But back to Ann. I love Ann's dragons. When a dragon hatches it has a special connection with one person--telepathically. I never got to experience that special connection with a horse, Buster would be the closest.
But I did understand the feeling of riding a dragon. It happened to me twice in all my years of riding.
Wow. That's it, just wow.
Everything clicks. You are in sync with an 1000-pound animal. It's like gliding on a dragon.
I hadn't realized until years later that Ann bred and raised Irish Hunters. Her dragons. It makes total sense.
To describe the intangible, the unknown, the fantasy, writers must draw upon what they know and then add their imagination to the mix.
Sometimes it's just magic.
Let's hope riding my friend's horse will end up being magic.