Sunday silence

It's been a little more than sixteen months since Olive and I joined forces.

People have asked if it's different having a horse of my own. It's a simple question, but the the answer is complicated. 

In a lot of ways, nothing has changed. I ride at the same barn, in the same ring, on the same trails, with the same people.

There is nothing I've done with Olive that I haven't done with at least half a dozen other horses.

Still, somethings are different.

Although riding alone has never been a regular event, I do have fond memories of solo trail rides on Rev, 

Santana...

and Guaranteed.

Olive isn't ready for a long solo trek down the trail, but we do spend a lot of time riding alone.

On days when I work, I go to the barn really early. It's cold, and as often as not, I'm the only person on the property.

The parking lot was empty when I arrived at Kenlyn this morning. I gave Olive a thorough grooming, which we both enjoy.

Then we went for a bareback toodle. We did a little bit of trotting and popped over a cavaletti, but mostly we just walked quiet laps around the outdoor arena, listening to the birds and enjoying the solitude.

When I think of what is different between Olive and all of the horses that came before her, this is what comes to mind - all these unremarkable, quiet hours spent together. Every day, it's the two of us, doing something, doing nothing, but doing it together.