24/1/15

I am out for a movie and a snack with a friend I have started to get to know more deeply in the last few weeks ‘Who are your friends?’ she asks me, and I pause for a moment. I have some lovely women friends, although the theme of my life seems to be that the women I most relate to always feel the urge to seek new adventures and head off to different towns, different states, sometimes different worlds. But there is one new friend that I know will always stay and I wonder how I offer her name without sounding like loser. ‘One of most nourishing friendships this past 6 months has been with Honey, my horse,’ I say, and it is a truth that cannot be explained, but can be felt. When a horse enters your life and your heart there is a friendship that is elevated above the ruminations of ordinary people. . Later I recant this story to Kim – she gets it. She knows better than I the long hours of devotion spent with the horse and the reward that flows as a blessing through your veins, though your life.

It is s bright day and Hannah and I arrive to the quietness of a near deserted property. We bring in Honey and Coco and hang out for an hour. Without design on the day we ease into the space of saddling and Honey accepts her new saddle with grace. For the first time Hannah and I set out, just the two of us, for a ride. Around the dam, around the property, just mother and daughter riding their beloveds. I say to her ‘ this makes me so happy to be doing this just the two of us.’ Her smile says more than words. Honey trots and moves with my request. Her feet are holding well so we have decided to try a pair of front shoes and see if that helps even more. Her knee, the thing we really thought was going to be problematic is not an issue. I am learning.

And I have learnt much. Especially these past few weeks. I have spent five days on horseback up in the High Country doing things I never imagined I could. I have lived and breathed horses for this time. Sleeping alongside their holding pen under the brightest full moon, in a swag so the stars could kiss my forehead. I have climbed obscene mountains and plunged through countless river crossings. Over 110 kilometres of mountains and trails through the magnificent High Country. Over Mt Stirling and down the Howqua River, I rode through my delight, my pain my fear, through myself. Until I emerged and I felt I had earned my place to call myself a horse rider at last.

And it was a baptism to country as well. The spaces inside me called to feel the ruggedness of the mountains and the essence of the dirt from which my bones were formed. I felt a part of the land, rightful in my place as a woman who can survive, in bush and in life. I feel my resilience and the historical thread that I carry to the women who pioneered this land centuries before me. I feel my place in this line and I feel for the first time my real place in this land, this life. It is a gift I was not expecting. I do not need to don the Akubra or uniform of the bush woman, instead I know that I am this and it fills me with love and relief.

It has been different between Honey and I since I returned. I have been reluctant to ride her, until today. Last week when I had the first opportunity to really hang out with her (since I got back from my ride), just the two of us, I took her for a long bush walk – that seemed enough for both of us.

I think I wanted to hold the spirit of my adventure, was scared I might go back to ordinary or not much horsewomen back in my old place. But today I rode and it was an echo of the life I touched during that five days out in the world. It has all come with me, and it has bought me here…it has been unfolding for decades.