Sunrise Ride

Fiction By Sarah // 12/1/2007

As the sun peeked over the hills, sending out its first glimmers of light over the frozen, sleeping valley, it showed a glimpse of a man, and a girl, their breath showing in the icy cold, leading two horses toward a trailer. “Whoa, Rocky,” The girl admonished, tugging gently on the lead rope. “Whoa boy.” The other horse, a dark, dark shade of bay, nearly black, turned in nervous circles around the man. “Steady, Lexy, good girl.” He laid calming hand on her neck. “She’s skittish this morning” the girl said. “What’s up?” “I don’t know, but maybe you’d better load Rocky first, instead.” The girl stepped toward the trailer, Rocky following obediently. She hopped into the trailer. “Come on boy.” He placed his big right forefoot gingerly into the trailer as if unsure if it would hold him or not. He high-stepped it into the trailer and stood quietly as she tied him. As she turned away to leave, he nudged her with his nose and gazed at her balefully. She laughed “Oh Rocky, here you go.” handing him a piece of carrot. He crunched between his big teeth with relish, obviously savoring the tasty treat. She climbed out the escape door as Lexy came barreling in. “Oh we’ve GOT to break her of that habit!” her dad said, ruefully rubbing her neck. The girl quickly shut the back doors, and slid the bar across. “Ok, that’s done, I’ll grab my saddle and a couple of curry combs, Dad.” “I’ll come and grab mine too, in a minute.” “OK” the girl threw over her shoulder as she ran toward the barn, vanishing through the open doors. She re-emerged a minute later, lugging a 40 lb. saddle, and two currycombs.
“Dad, could grab Rocky’s bridle? I couldn’t carry it as well as all this stuff.
“Sure, have you got a couple of brushes?”
“Yes,Dad.”
“Good, meet me in the truck.” He appeared a few moments later, shut the barn door carefully, tossed his own saddle, and two bridles into the back of the pickup, and drove out of the field, east. Twenty minutes later, they arrived at the reservoir, Bennington Lake. They unloaded the horses, and brushed them down in companionable silence. After saddling up, they mounted simultaneously, and rode north on a trail following the lake-side. After riding for nearly fifteen minutes, they came to a ford in Mill Creek, Lexy lowered her head and snorted at the water, but both horses crossed easily. Just after crossing, the trail turned steeply upward, and branched into three trails. By unspoken consent, they turned east, away from the lake, toward the mountains. They crested a hill, and began to canter, the crisp fall wind whipping against their faces. They crossed the creek once more, angling for a deer trail; the horses inched up the incline, their hooves digging deep into the ground. As they reached the top, the sun began to peek over the horizon, they stopped and rested, breathing in the morning air, and simply enjoying each other’s company, and the gorgeous view.

Comments

I love horses and I've been

I love horses and I've been meaning to write horse stories. But that was cool! As I read it, I could imagine it in my mind. A great writer can light the reader's imagination with the way you write the story! Write more!

Emily-Smileygirl (not verified) | Sat, 12/01/2007

Ditto

Phenomonal descriptions!

Deus Regnat!

Lucia | Sun, 12/02/2007

Scio, diligo, servo Deum.

:P

Thanks, both of you. :P

Sarah | Sun, 12/02/2007

"Sometimes even to live is courage."
-Seneca

Blogging away!
busyscribbler.wordpress.com

Very good.....

That was really good! Except one time you switched to first person (that or you forgot to put another quotation mark). I especially loved the last paragraph-it was very discriptive. I love writing about horses, you probably haven't seen those on here. Right now I'm writing "Away" and "The Water Horse". By the way, I'll be changing The Water Horse's name to something more original. Anyway, I liked your story!

Falling Leaves-unschooler, horse lover, and obsesser over writing, reading and proper grammar.

E | Wed, 09/10/2008

"You were not meant to fit into a shallow box built by someone else." -J. Raymond