Sunbathing

Windy the miniature horse trotted alongside me as I led her back to her paddock, which was adjacent to the large field where I turned Ransom out during the day. He often socialized with the pint-sized equines at the corner gate. He had hung a friendly face over the fence when I came to get Windy out, but now he lay in the dirt – a prone hunk of spots.

There is something disconcerting about a horse flat-out on the ground, bulging disproportionately in that unnatural position. My first reaction was to watch for the rise and fall of Ransom’s giant belly. As usual, he was just napping. Perhaps I’d worn him out with our morning ride.

After putting Windy away, I climbed through the fence to sit on the bars and watch him. He rolled up to look at me as I approached, but soon returned to his dusty bed. The warm noon sun cast my shadow over his legs, which stretched out so I could see the bottom of his hooves. As we soaked in the sun together, I marveled at the ingenuity of whoever first thought of using water as a metaphor for light. I could picture liquid light streaming around us. It made me feel sleepy, too.

My stomach growled, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten lunch yet and shaking me from my sun-drenched stupor. I inched out of the rails and snuck away, leaving Ransom to his sunbathing.