The Face of a Flower

Look into the face of a flower 

and 

lose yourself in its beauty and perfection

Horse Talk

After days of torrential rain, holes finally began to appear in the blanket of dark cloud that covered the area, revealing patches of blue sky to the drenched world below.  The freedom to roam outdoors proved irresistible so I set out for a walk after almost a week of being confined within the solid walls of the house.   At each gap in the hedge and every field gate, I stood to drink in the sights and sounds of the green rolling hills, distant fells and increasing expanse of cloudless sky.  I continued along the road absorbed and enthralled by the darting and twittering of the sparrows, blue-tits and finches, the rabbits running in and out from under the hedgerows and the sound of water running along the field drains.  Suddenly, a different sound filled the air and brought me back to the road and out of the dream-like state into which I had drifted.

It was a horse making short, repetitive noises.  I turned and saw a piebald horse standing under an oak tree set back from the field gate I had just passed.  As I walked back towards him, he moved from the shade of the tree and made directly for the gate making little noises as he progressed.  Standing face to face, we looked into each other’s eyes and I noticed the left was one blue and the right one brown which is characteristic of these horses whose iris colouration matches the surrounding  area of skin (blue eyes for pink skin, brown for dark) and which is caused by a  genetic condition known as leucism. I began talking to him in a low and quiet voice and looked more deeply into his eyes noting his breathing and the slight, almost imperceptible movements of his body.  I wanted to understand this creature, to find some means of communicating and connecting with this living being. He was big and strong which made me acutely aware of my own small size and I fought off the creeping fear that lurked inside me for I didn’t want him to sense I might be afraid of him.  I continued talking to him, telling him how fine he looked and how much I wanted to get to know him. He looked at me with those bright, vital eyes and I sensed that he on his part was equally seeking to communicate with me.  I asked him if I could stroke his neck and scratch his nose and tentatively began patting his neck.  He responded by  rubbing his head against my arm and then nuzzling into my shoulder.  I continued stroking him and talking to him about the weather and how lucky we both were standing there on such a beautiful morning.  He made no sound but looked intently at me.

I apologised for the fact that I had nothing to give him, had neither apple nor carrot in my pocket, that I had not known he was in this field and this was not my usual route.  He listened a while, seeming to  mull over what I had told him and then made a noise and gave a movement of his head.  He was trying to convey something to me but I didn’t understand and apologised to him for my lack. After several minutes, he took a step forward, leaned his head over the fence and stared in the direction of some long succulent grass growing in the ditch beside me. He then raised his eyes to me and  back again to that spot.  Now I knew what he wanted.  I picked a large handful of grass and held if out to him to eat.  When he finished it, he gave another look towards the ground so I gathered more handfuls of grasses and other plants and stood feeding him and talking to him until the patch was bare.

I expected him to move away when his appetite was sated but he remained in the same spot while I patted him and brushed back the tousled strands of mane from across his eyes.  From the time we met at the gate we had been looking, searching deep into each other’s eyes but now my words stopped for they were no longer needed.  With my hand resting gently on his head we felt the contact of skin on skin, heard the rhythm of each other’s breathing and began to know each other.  I didn’t want to break the spell and walk away and he made no move to leave so there we stood, the horse and I, together silently sharing the warmth of the sun, the gentle breeze and the sound of the birds and sheep for a long while.  In the end, it was a passing tractor with a trailer loudly rattling behind that startled us both and the horse ran to the middle of the field.

When walking, I prefer the quieter lanes and tracks but I now often go on this road walk just to see the piebald horse.  There is no greater pleasure than standing under the trees by the field-gate, in sun or rain, in silent companionship and unspoken rapport with another living animal.  There is no need for a shared spoken language just a gentle, quiet approach and use of intuition, innate understanding and natural feelings.  The horse and I are simply two equal entities, being ourselves and sharing time and space. To be permitted to touch another living creature, being physically and psychically, is a privilege.  On the occasions when he has not been in the field, my spirits have sank like a stone and cast a shadow over the remainder of the walk.  Each time I pass on foot or by car, my eyes scan and scour the field to see if he has returned and I am surprised at the extent of my disappointment and at how much I miss him. The reappearance of this beautiful, powerful yet gentle animal fills me with pure joy.  Across that field gate we are not horse and human just sentient beings who have found a connection; something that is always there between man and animal if only we let it happen.

Time to Stop and Stare

We are so preoccupied and absorbed with our own lives and human affairs that we often fail to see the beauty that surrounds us.

If we occasionally stopped to look, to really see the birds, animals, trees, sky and myriad other wondrous things that comprise the natural world, we would not only become more familiar with them but also learn much about ourselves.