George,with his silver-gray furcantering across bright green grasswhinnying softlyhis white mane blown out by the windthe sun a horizon of bright colorsbehind him

Reaching out to petthe softbrown and white dotted faceof PolkaPeering out from behind the stallready to ride

*          *          *

All my life I’ve been watching those jumpers in that field wishing it was me. Finally I was ready. The swishing of Violet’s tail and the clop of her canter encouraged me onward. Leaning forward I felt my heart soar into the bright blue sky as Violet leapt into the air almost as if she were flying. Then dropping gently to the ground and coming slowly to a stop. I had done it. I had jumped.