One beat, two beats, three beats. I measure as we seem to reach for the jump in slow motion. My horse's hooves lift off of the ground with ease. We soar upwards in the air, going over a high jump. The nostrils are wide, the eyes are open fully, and my face is turned to the left as we come closer to the climax of the jump. Legs are tucked, hooves pointed perfectly straight in underneath. The neck stretches out, arched in its beauty. We turn in midair. One foot lands in the gray sand, and the next follows. Left hoof is forward, guaranteeing the correct lead. My face is forward, I smile wide. We both know exactly where we're going. My horse's ears are pricked, it's short mane bounces with its three beat stride. One beat, two beat, three beat, four beat, five beat, six beat, seven beat, eight beat. We reach the jump. Hooves lift off the ground, and yet again... We soar.

The liver chestnut races forward, against nothing but for both itself and me. Its mane is long and flows back, touching my hand. My other hand reaches back as it is supposed to but now strokes the leather tassels. My black shirt glitters with blue, and my black cowboy hat begins to fly back a bit. Suddenly, with only a slight cue, my horse comes to a long slide stop. It reminds me of a train going full speed ahead and desperately trying to stop before they get to the broken tracks, except for there is no stopping a locomotive. As we stop, horse's face is completely relaxed. We stand only for a moment before pivoting and cantering off again, this time heading for the arc. My hand still caresses the leather and my horse's coat shines in underneath. I break a smile for the world to see as my horse carries me strongly.

A little gray horse races in underneath me. We ride only in a halter and 12 foot line, and trees whip past us in view. The gallop is quick, but in slow motion as well. The gait is one of the smoothest I have ever felt. Its tail is carried as a flag behind me, and the flecks show well in the shadows of the trees. We navigate up a steep hill, and I lean forward to help. I grab his mane with my hands and hold on, while we fly up the hill. I hear several others just ahead, stopping at some type of water formation. The sweat from both the horse and I prove that we need the break, and that he deserves it. We both breathe hard, but happily.

The large, strong horse in underneath me feels as if he wears moon shoes instead of horseshoes. I imagine stroking his bleach blacked shoulder but continue the contact I have with the reins. We are moving nowhere but are moving- trot in place. The horse's tail does not swish, my face is not dismal. His face is alive, ears toward me, listening to my slight cues. His tail bounces from side to side and I flow along with him. Side to side, side to side my hips move, just slightly.

And finally... saving probably the best for last.

A teenage girl stretches across her small mare's back in the sun. There is no halter, no bridle, no saddle, no tack... The girl's feet rest on the bay shoulders, and she does not worry about whether or horse could leave. She knows that her mare will not leave. The eyes turn to face her and she nudges one foot with her nose playfully. The girl sits up a bit and reaches her hand forward for the mare to smell. Just a few minutes ago they were galloping across a field to nowhere in particular, not leaving or staying. They were lost in a dreamworld, both completely enthralled in the gallop. No person could take this moment from them, fingertips reaching to touch the velvet teddy bear nose. They looked at each other quizzically and with faces full of wonder. Why hadn't they found this before?