Imagine this: you are lying on your back in a field. To your left, the ground dips down to a small stream. You can hear it, babbling and splashing, as the horses paw and play in it. It's fairly high due to snowmelt; the little island in the middle is under water. If you want to cross, you'll have to cross one of the bridges. I like to cross the unfinished one. It's fairly easy, so long as there's no wind. If stay where you are though, you can feel the cold earth, for the winter grass hardly keeps you off the ground. A light breeze rustles the grass and plays with your hair, whipping it into odd contortions, momentarily blocking out the warmth of the sun on your face. You can hear the horses grazing, or if Titus is feeling naughty, they might be running from his bites. They thunder along the ground, and it rings out as their heavy hooves pound into it. If you walk over there later, you'll see the perfect horse-shoe shaped indentions that tell their own story. Lady Teribithea bucks and snorts, putting on extra speed. Faintly, the cars on the road break into the peace of the scene. They rattle as they cross the grooved bridge. Children laugh as they walk home from school; CLP is right around the corner. A few stop to watch and point at the horses, enjoying it almost as much as I do. One of the girls, the one who never wears shoes, stops to pet the mare next door. The mare the mare pauses in her running for a moment, but then resumes, running up and down, calling out to them. She tosses her head and gallops along the fence. They don’t really ever respond. It’s funny, they are part of her herd, yet she’s not part of theirs.

You can smell the horses’ sweat; they’ve been running hard. The earth smells moist, damp and rich. Where the horses’ hooves have broken the ground you can smell the grass and dirt mingled together. If you open your eyes, you can see a clear blue sky outlined by browned grass, and the occasional mound of manure. Suddenly you might feel colder, and you may assume that if you look to the side, you might see Jackson, coming over to look for cookies. You can give him one, but make sure the others don’t see, or they will come beg for their own.

I love to sit and listen, and I can for hours on end if I get the chance. This place is full of a variety of sights, sounds, and smells. Hours c an be spent here, and I can promise that it won't be wasted. Thea and Titus flying around the pasture at top speed is one of my favorite sights, I anxiously await the day I will join them, my hair mingling with one of their manes. This place is one of my favorites. It is here that I am at home, in my element, surrounded by my friends, my horses. I hope you were able to join me, if only for a moment or two.