Wild Horses

As time went on and the band of wild horses came closer, I once again wondered how I had gotten myself into this position. All I had wanted to do was to see the horses up close and I had somehow managed to almost get myself shot by a farmer who thought I was trying to steal his sheep. 

First problem was that I had been so focused on the horses, I hadn’t even seen the farmer. And I don’t know why anyone would want to steal a sheep in the first place. After slowly backing away from the farmer and his rifle, I made a wide arc and stayed close to the tree line so I could avoid the famer, but see the horses. I didn’t even know what kind of horses they were, but kept telling myself they were wild mustangs. 

I don’t know how long I stopped and stared, but I started when a chestnut horse passed within an arm’s reach. I knew suddenly what my next stop would be. I knew exactly where to go because the chestnut horse would get me there. Though my knowledge of horses was slim, I had the feeling the horse would take me away. And take me where I needed to go even though I didn’t. I closed my eyes, opened my heart and let the horse take me away.