I have been meaning to write this here. This took place on Monday the 17th.

I stepped outside into the warmer-than-usual weather. Snow still dusted the ground but was melting in patches. The girls had heard the door open and close. I grabbed a bright blue saucer (like a child's sled- circular and with a handle on the front) as a second thought and navigated through the beautiful soggy land. When I reached the fence, I glanced at the beautiful creatures who were gazing at me in wonder. With my writing and drawing notepads, I stepped through the fence and situated myself on the snowy hill that looked down over the horses. I did not look at them again, but instead just sat on my saucer and went at writing. My legs gently laid in front of me, each one bent a bit. The muddy, torn boots that I wore on my feet made me smile for a moment before I heard the beat of a trot coming closer. My head raised to show the gorgeous Finale slowing from her trot and into a soft walk. Her first expression was curiosity- I had never done this before with her. She gently halted just in front of me and lowered her head. Instead of raising my hand to greet her, I began to sing as I sometimes do with the horses. The song that escaped from my lips was soft and quiet, not contained by words. When I sing like this, it is not from what I have heard or what I wish to be like but is instead a reflection of my inner-self. My inner-self is not just my current emotion but my personality and character as a whole. It was calming, peaceful, content, whimsical, and felt like a tune you would hear out of a fairytale. I had not noticed that I had closed my eyes until I opened them to Finale with her eyes closed. There was never a break in my song but only growing fascination. Finale appeared to be half asleep, as I must have been as well, but fully here both mentally and emotionally. I say "half asleep" because that is often a place used when referring to being completely at calm and at a feeling of rest. As the song continued, she carefully stepped closer to me as if she were of great strength and she had been given a china doll to hold. Her head was now at my level and she was open-eyed. Very carefully, she took my arm in under her nose and lifted it. Her head was at an odd angle to support the weight of my arm, as it was limp and would have fallen if she had let it. After a minute or two of this, she gently laid it back in my lap. Her eyes were then attracted to what was in under my writing notebook. She lifted the notebook gently with her mouth. At first I grabbed for it, not wanting her (tending to be) mischievous self to take my notebook and run off with it, parading it around thinking she was so smart. After a moment she got this really soft look in her face and I knew that she was not going to take it anywhere. She dropped it on the side of my lap, just far enough to where she would be able to see the drawing notebook in underneath. Her head tilted as if she were trying to study the drawing with great focus and wonder. My voice continued to sing still, but now to her about the drawing. She felt it with her nose, as if she were feeling it with her hands. I let her do this and then gaze at it again before she nosed the writing notebook back over it. My song changed again after a minute, more similar to the one before and without words. Cherish walked over and lowered her head, sniffing over my shoulders and the rest of me. Finale gave her a minute before she decided that Cherish was too close. She watched were she stepped and walked carefully around me, guiding Cherish away. When Hope came, she did the same. She then returned and put her nose on my shoulder and on the back of my neck after that, letting it rest there. All I felt was a soft joy and full peace. Finale moved her head back to my lap and fell asleep completely this time. When she awoke and stepped back, I agreed that it was time to part. This was the first time I offered my hand to her. As always, my fingers were bent downwards. She gently rolled my hand over and put her nose in my palm. We stood there for a moment like that before I stroked her forehead, shoulder, back and down the side once before turning and walking away in song. Finale watched me go and turned when I was safely out of the fence. I whispered a thank you to her from here, even though I knew I had already thanked her with that wonderful stroke, and she had thanked me with the gesture of putting her nose in my palm to rest.

What a wonderful world we live in.