#senseofsight

[accuratebodylanguage]

Notice the beauty of nature with all of your senses.

⇩ What’s beautiful in, around, and surrounding you? ⇩  

What do you see? Or, hear? Are you noticing any aromas?

If so, what do your senses notice and identify?

If you can touch the beauty, what does it feel like?  How would you describe what you are experiencing?

[celestehermes-blog]

Rolling down the white rocky dirt path, the car bumping on the rocky road, I look at the wide open green field and the bunnies hopping across to the neighboring property. Dust rises behind me in the rear-view mirror, and peace overwhelms me. All personal anxieties are immediately gone when crossing the heavy gate between the two white, stone columns.

           Horses are grazing on the left with people riding in the arena at the top of the low hill. Life slows down, paralleling with the slow 15mph down the road. Finally, at a stop, I get out of my car. The barn is a large white metal structure with dirt floors and old wood stalls. Ears immediately perk, and all the beady eyes look at me as I walk into the barn. A thin layer of dust covers the surfaces of everything that resides in the barn. I lay my keys down on the table and make my way to my horse’s stall. Above me, hanging from the tin roof are baskets of flowers, and fly catchers. Precious, one of the several barn cats, is lounging atop a tack trunk with a teal saddle pad as his cushion. I turn and walk through the dirty white locker room. Right outside the door I see Frazier.

           Frazier is eating his hay and flies are swarming. The fan blades are spinning hard, creating a lulling ambiance as his mane gently blows as the artificial wind hits. I greet him. I was looking at him before, but now I see him. We make eye contact, and suddenly my heart fills with love, and brain with endorphins. His soft face reminds me that I am loved and relied on. His perked ears show me that he’s looking at me with as much intent as I am to him. I unlock the rusty gate and unlatch the blue nylon rope halter attached to the side of the door and walk in. He chomps at the hay for one more large bite before lowering his head, accepting the halter.

           Leading him out, I look down at my black leather boots and make sure his hooves aren’t going to step on me. These are my worries when I’m here at the barn; are we both safe right now? Rather than when I’m at school, “who said what about who?” I latch the cross ties to each side of the halter. I calm him by rubbing the crest of his dappled grey neck, hair and dirt pile in a lump that quickly is caught by the wind and travels its way slowly to the floor. Watching this was peaceful, as it reminded me that everything returns back to the Earth someday.

           Walking to the tack locker room, through the rickety door, I pick up all my tack and grooming box. I set everything down on the saddle rack and bridle hook and grab my favorite black brush with yellow bristles. From withers to hind quarters, I brush long strokes flicking at the end of my stroke, the dirt flying into the air. This is therapeutic and overwhelmingly satisfying. Today, I chose the lavender saddle pad over the light blue. I set the pad atop his swayed back and add another black half pad to cushion the deep brown English saddle with beautiful white stitching. Once I finish, I lead Frazier to the handmade, wooden mounting block. The sun’s light blinds me, as I come from the dark barn.

           The visor from my helmet can’t shield me from the Summer’s evening light. One foot in the stirrup, I wrap my legs around Frazier, and look down at the ground, twice as tall as I was before. I ride to the grass arena. Frazier, panicked, looks all around him before walking further. We arrive at the painted white fence with the grass greener than usual, after a Summer shower. Frazier’s neck is high in anticipation, and all my focus is to calm myself to transfer my energy to him. His visual cues are my reminders that all that matters is making him feel safe. The sky this evening is so big, and as we are riding over the brightly colored jumps, a gorgeous, painted sunset begins. After our ride, when I’m ready to go home, dark has flooded the sky. The moon casts a silhouette of the horses, as I drive away… back to the real world.