Sound {31 Days}
The creak of saddle leather, as my right legs swings over, easily, quickly. I’m now on her back and I settle my hip bones down, anchor my feet in my stirrups, rest my right hand on my thigh as my left fingers play lazily with tough leather reins. I don’t have to think about these movements, they just happen when I land. A horse down the line nickers, that gentle “hurrhurrhurr” you hear when you walk into a barn or a pasture. A sound of greeting. A horse further away whinnies, a calling sound, a mare asking her foal to come back, a friend calling to another friend, speaking of anxiety, of loneliness, of “how’s the weather?”
My horse sighs and flips her tail. She is ready for movement.
I hear the laughter of a friend. The call of a hawk, circling above us. The leaves of the Aspen trees, chattering in anticipation of fall, rustling and welcoming me to my wide open.
Rustle, creek, whistle, pop, laugh, whinny, nicker. These are the sounds of a long-gone summer, vividly recalled with one squeak of a belt or the feel of leather in my fingertips.