Driving down 183, the radio is tuned to 98.1 FM. The speaker is blasting Josh Turner, and the sound of cars zooming by my open window is almost deafening. I turn onto the country road, and the crunch of gravel beneath my tires replaces the cars. Bumping along the road, I turn the volume down to hear the singing of the birds, and the horses playing in their pastures. I near the parking area and start rolling my window up, the music now the only thing consuming my ears.
I open the car door and hear my trainer’s booming voice from the inside of the barn, followed by my friends’ distinct voices responding. I walk into the barn and the volume of their voices get louder. I greet my trainer, Paulina, and she asks me how my day was. I respond that it’s better now that I’m here, and everyone agreed vehemently. The fans blowing at full speed in each stall drown out the sounds in the barn. However, the chomping of hay, and horses knocking their buckets against the wall occasionally overrides the fans. Some of the horses murmur as I pass by them, while some are too consumed in their dinner to even notice my presence.
I walk through the locker room and into the outdoor paddocks, and hear Frazier eating his grain. The fans are just as powerful out here as inside the barn. Suddenly, my thoughts are interrupted by a synchronized squeal from Frazier and his next-door neighbor—Frazier is not a fan of equine company when eating. I scold him, and he goes back to eating as if nothing had just happened. Laughing, I grab his halter and lead rope to take him out of the stall to groom and tack up. José, the barn hand, had his Spanish music blasting from a radio atop a trunk down the aisle. As soon as I notice it, he comes out from the stall he was working in and starts a conversation in his native language. I respond in my broken Spanish, but I manage to understand that he’s asking if I’m riding today and stating how hot it is. This is usually how our short exchanges go, except if I had just ridden, he asks if Frazier was “loco hoy” (crazy today). I always enjoy my interactions with José; he is always so happy, even when it seems there’s not much to be happy about. It makes me realize how lucky I am, and how much I take life for granted. I forget about my worries and focus on the present, just like him.
After grooming and saddling Fray, I put on my helmet, half-chaps, and gloves, and we are ready to ride. When I’m on Frazier, I am extra alert, listening for anything in the bushes that may spook him. Horses, especially Fray, are known to bolt when they think they are in danger. I have to sing Edelweiss to him to calm him and myself, and as we ride the trust builds. Nothing matters now, except me and him, as I hear his hooves pound the bare Earth beneath us.
