What's outside my camper door? Friendly horses. I forgot how intoxicating the smell of a horse is. The yearling is my favorite. She's in the second picture. She paws my stair steps if the door is closed in the morning. I put my arms around her neck and put my face against her mane and breathe. I go back to a time of loving and caring for my horse. I was a kid and we would meet after school to ride our horses and ponies. No helmets, no boots, no saddles. Just sweaty horses against our legs. We rode for miles. Those trails are long gone, replaced by shopping centers and highways and fence. Karen Collins and I were best friends oh those so many years ago. These memories we're deep in my mind. They started coming to the surface when my face was buried in the yearings long mane. These horses are at my friend Patricia Hill s farm.
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