Spiralling, up, up, my anxiety levels. Sweat, hot, dances down my back. Yesterday a sharp buck. A surprised, twisting body flying through the air. Mine. Hard earth. Bruised confidence, pride and body. I banish the memory. I squeeze my calves on a rounded belly. My horse moves forward. Hooves thud rhythmically. Ears flick gently. I adjust the reins with shaking hands. The dappled neck in front of me arches gracefully. Heart fizzing joyfully, my shoulders relax. Tension slips away. Another squeeze. A trot. I smile stupidly, a happy yelp spills from my lips. Floating on the air. Spiralling, up, up.
Wendy Taylor lives in rural New Zealand with her family and a variety of animals.