It is raining “cats and dogs” and the forecast calls for more of the same all week.
Distracted by the sound of it pummeling down onto my roof, I glance outside my bedroom window to witness the site. Hmm…I contemplate, it’s going to be a wet ride today.
I have to admit that I’m quite cozy in the dry warmth of my room reading from what appears to be an eerie glow coming from my bedside lamp, made so against the stormy backdrop.
Still, the thought of not showing up at the stable today, doesn’t even occur to me. Don’t get me wrong, there have been plenty of times when I have hesitated and even rescheduled my ride due to an unplanned event arising at the last minute, such as a hurt child, a call from a client that I simply had to take, or more recently, due to ‘doctors orders’ (Doc said, “If you ever want to use your right arm again, then you must rest and ice it for a week!”)
Inclement weather, however, is generally not a good enough reason for me to miss my ride. I actually enjoy riding in the dead of winter, when most shutter at the thought. You know when it’s so cold outside that you can actually see your breath and not feel your fingers or toes, even with winter gloves and boots? Yeah, that kind of weather. I love it, for it keeps me cool when I’m working hard trying to learn this challenging, and oh so demanding sport.
I do find it smart to plan around hot weather. For example, if I know that it is going to be a blistering and humid day out, then I will purposely wait until the evening to ride if I happened to miss my early morning opportunity. Timing around weather is not only for my comfort but for the sake of my horse, as it is just not optimal to intentionally ride in the heat of the day when there are more intelligent options available.
Geared up for the rain.
So for now I happily throw on my ‘Wellies’ (knee high rain boots), a slicker and my beat up Boston Red Sox cap and head to the barn.
I know that Duncan will be in his field as he is an ‘out all day and night’ kind of horse – sturdy that is. I have read recently that it is actually healthier for horses to be outside in the fresh air, grazing and roaming about day and night than to be in their stalls. Go figure since a box stall isn’t exactly a natural habitat for a horse.
Anyway, I’m geared up and ready for the muddy challenge. As I make my way to the back pasture the rain dances off my cap, and lands on my face, so much for keeping dry.
But then the smell of wet grass, mingled with hay, floods my senses and I’m suddenly taken back in time to when I was a young child growing up in Florida doing this very same thing.
It is as if time has stood still. I pause and think to myself, “if this is to be my Quest, then I hope it never ends.”
