Write '07

We needed to be alone this day. I arrive early so I would not have to participate in the idle chitchat that accompanies the waking of the yard. As quietly as possible I slide open the heavy door of the barn and slip inside. Even in the dark she knows I am here and welcomes me with a low whinny. Hers is the only head over a door, searching for me with eyes as rich and dark as melted chocolate. I feel a stab of guilt. When we first met she would have hidden at the back of the box when I entered but now receives me with a nudge, expecting food. I slide both arms inside her rug and let the warmth of her go through me. Feeling her hot sweet breath on my neck we whisper to each other. I try to explain but no words will come and instead I offer a handful of hay to appease her grumbling stomach. 

Accompanied by the steady rhythm of her grinding the hay, the sound I will miss the most, I gently work around her face with the soft, leather backed brush that has moulded to the shape of my hand. She looks at me with a deep intelligence and with a shake, nighttime dust and shavings fall from her mane to the ground like snow. Deftly my fingers comb the tangles from her tail and with practiced skill I replace her rug with a cosy Witney blanket and secure it in place with the saddle. She fidgets as I lift the bridle, understanding the promise of a canter in the frost and forgets all about a missed breakfast. As the darkness starts to lift we leave. Her small feet echo sharply on the concrete of the silent yard and sleepy faces appear from unlit looseboxes to see who it is that disturbs their dozing.

The dawn air is cold and sharp. It cuts into my cheeks and they sting as the tears hit them. Ahead the mist is rising from the fields and, feeling my tension, my Arab shies as she hears the distant call of the crows, circling like vultures above the Spinney. We step off the lane and my little mare, so familiar beneath me jogs, eager to stretch her legs. I lighten my seat and let her go, she leaps forward and we fly. She snorts great clouds of breath that surround us as we climb the track, gradually increasing pace as we go. At the top of the path, she lowers and goes faster still. Racing ghosts of our past along the brow of the hill, swift hooves sound hollow on the cold, hard ground. The wind slices through me and I embrace the pain, just punishment for betraying my heart. Tendrils of icy mane, wet with winter mist whip my face as I crouch low over her neck. I can barely see through my streaming eyes but I don't need them; we know every bump and dip of this track so well. Our hearts pound and nothing exists but her and I and speed.

Before we reach the hedge, reluctantly we slow and turn out of the field and into the Spinney. Entering the shadow of the oaks she snatches the bit and stretches long and low, blowing still. We wind our way through the trees, hooves padding softly on dead leaves and crumbling dirt subconsciously watching for roots and burrows. Dappled through the branches overhead, spots of early morning sunlight dance across her chestnut neck, like bright pieces of gold. The crows are quiet now. I feel her relax as she nods her head, ears twitching at the sounds of the waking wood but with one flicked backwards, always listening for me. I stroke her shoulder with a quivering hand and wish this wood went on forever.

I think about the day she came, bounding from the lorry in an explosion of fire and sweat. Darting sideways, tail up like a flag, her whole body strained, so alive in her trembling. She had fixed me with a wild eye and announced her arrival with a squeal. The answer to all my girlhood dreams. Perfect. Now, surrounded by the calm intimacy of this place, she sighs and lengthens her stride. Content and oblivious of what is to come. Unknowing that when we emerge into the daylight and follow the long track home, the lorry will be waiting, this time to take her away. I, Judas, bend forward and bury my face in her beautiful neck; the scent of my horse penetrates deep into my soul. I kiss her and my heart breaks.