I love horses. When I run my hand down the warm, strong and silky neck of a horse, I feel the power. When my hands get lost in a thick, coarse mane, I feel safe. When I see a rider and horse moving as one, I feel alive.
Steeplechasing is one of those sports that reinforces why I love horses, especially horses in motion: The tremendous speed as the horse’s nostrils flare and its hooves eat up the ground between jumps that often look like tall, overgrown hedges; the rider’s control of the speed and collection of the mount; the trust given the horse by its rider and the trust give the rider by the horse because neither can see what is waiting on the other side of that jump. Then the moment comes, they round over the jump and for a mini-second they are one — defying gravity.
I love books. I like the smell and the feel of them, the different worlds they bring — worlds I have to participate in to find closure.
Dick Francis brought the world of steeplechasing and books together for decades. The ex-jockey and writer of thrillers died on Valentine’s Day. His passing is a personal loss to his family and friends. His passing is a personal loss to us readers, because on another snowy, cold day we can no longer curl up with a new vision of Francis’ world.
Judy D.J. Ellich
Any thoughts, you also can write me at judye@dailyamerican.com.
Free Link Directory…
Good stuff, found your site through Google using the words ‘hedges’ by the way :-)…
jockey horse…
I don’t comment often, but I do like your blog….