This morning dawned cool and crisp in the nature of typical Autumn days here in Missouri. I had the windows open and was enjoying the breeze whistling through the living room and trying to decide what, if anything, to write about in my blog today.

As I sat mulling over topics, I happened to glance at my new Avatar. I was suddenly struck with a memory, probably triggered by a combination of the Avatar and the cool wind blowing through the window.

Now I remember it as though it was yesterday instead of 43 years ago....

It was a cool crisp Sunday morning in early November. The sun was just beginning its journey across the Texas sky as I made my way toward the barn and my waiting horse.

Being Sunday, I did not have to work on the neighbor's ranch and had no immediate chores to do so the day was all mine. I planned on enjoying it to the fullest.

As I reached the barn I could hear my horse, Skipper impatiently snorting and pawing the ground; she too was looking forward to today. Skipper was a beautiful, nine-year-old, bay mare who had been my constant companion and friend for the past five years. She was a Quarter-horse/Tennessee-Walker mix who was a champion cutting horse, having won many ribbons in various rodeos around East Texas.

When I entered her stall she approached me and softly nuzzled my arm, telling me to hurry up...she was eager to be gone. I slipped the halter over her head...no bridle and steel bit in her mouth today. The halter had two rope reins attached to give me some directional control, but today she would be running unfettered.  Instead of a saddle, I threw a soft blanket over her back, then led her out of the barn.

She stood stock still while I grabbed her mane and swung myself up onto her back. As soon as she sensed I was settled on top of her, she broke out into a fast trot. We quickly left the barn and house behind and headed up the dirt road.

A half-mile from the house, we reached a high-line and turned onto it headed East... she knew the way. Once onto the broad expanse of the high-line I stopped trying to hold her back. I loosed the reins and leaned forward. That was all the urging Skipper needed and she exploded into a dead run.

We flashed over the open, grassy land in a blur of pure speed, Skipper running effortlessly while I leaned over her body and let the wind whip at my face and tug my shirt. Her hooves seemed to barely touch the ground and for my part, it was the closest I have ever felt to experience of flight.

All too soon we reached the steep banks of Rocky Creek and I had to pull her up and settle into an impatient walk as we maneuvered our way down the side of one bluff bank and forded the creek, then up the other side.

The sun was up now and once we reached the other side of the creek, I dismounted. dropping the reins I allowed Skipper to graze leisurely and cool down while I threw myself to the ground and just luxuriated in the cool air, sun, and absolute freedom only a kid of seventeen can feel.

After awhile I remounted and we spent the rest of the day exploring the forest, scaring up and chasing deer, jumping fallen logs and just having fun. By lunch time we were back home. I turned her out into the pasture to roll and graze and swim in her pond while I set to completing the chores I had put off that morning.

I remember thinking that life, at that moment could never get any better no matter what else I did over the years.

Now....today...I remember that long ago time and I am in awe at how lucky I was to live the life I have lived. Today I still ride, but it is always with a saddle and bridle and on a horse that could never equal the fiery, fierce nature of Skipper. But that's okay because I could never equal the physical powers of that seventeen year old me. Today I am content to trot or walk slowly over the open foothills of Missouri at a sedate pace and remember those long gone days of youth and speed and exhilaration.