The ride

The wind blowing through long hair, whipping it behind as a comets tail of auburn tresses. The smell of leather from the saddle and bridle mixing with the sweat rising from the neck and flanks of the warmblood as the hooves eat up the miles. The freedom of the open moorland inviting in its empty glory as the tracks open out from the edge of the woods.

The trees left behind as the rolling expanse of turf, heather and gorse, kept in check by the upland sheep stretches to infinity, the traffic of the town forgotten as the tang of salt from coastal breezes freshens the soul. Bending low over the horses neck the rider urges his steed onwards, the goal unset, the aim pure pleasure. The thrill of the ride the only thing.

A moment of bliss in a lifetime of stress, the glory of the perfect union of man and animal…an epiphany…


About Autistic writing

Im 46, autistic and vocal about it, a specialist autism mentor in higher education, embarking on my MEd in adult autism, autistic advocate and campaigner, writer and co-founder of asP - the autism strategy partnership #differentnotdamaged #askaboutasP

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