Ellyn Oaksmith's Blog - Posts Tagged "riding"
Wild Horses
First of all, Happy Easter.
This is the most un-Easter-ish of blog entries but it involves an image I simply cannot get out of my head.
Last week my daughter, who rides at a local barn, asked me to shoot 5-10 minutes of her riding for a school project. After a quick tutorial on her Iphone, she led the horse, Beetle, to the arena, where my daughter proceeded to ride him. Or tried to ride him. Beetle tried to buck her off several times before the instructor decided to give it a shot. Beetle would have none of it and decided to really put some effort into getting rid of the pesky human on his back.
The instructor quickly decided that whatever was bothering Beetle wasn't going to get any better with a rider on him. She took off his saddle and gave him the run of the arena.
I have never seen anything like it in my life. This horse, who typically has children younger than 10 riding him, turned into Beetle the Devil Horse. He raced around the arena, a thousand pounds of flashing black flank, bucking and galloping, slamming into the corners with such speed and force, stopping short to spray gravel half way up the arena wall. He went down on his knees, moaning as if possessed, shook his long neck from side to side, got up and ran to the other side of the arena, kicking up his heels in a mad dance.
At this point I wasn't clear if the instructor was trying to wear him out so that my daughter could ride him. I was in the observation area thinking that there was no way in hell any child of mine was going to get on that horse today. Finally the instructor walked to the center of the arena, speaking in a low voice to the horse, who was at least 20 yards away. He heard her, walking slowly towards her, finally resting his head on her shoulder.
"Are we going to be friends now?" the instructor asked.
The horse tossed his head a few more times before she led him out of the arena.
Thunder rolled across the valley. Torrents of rain followed. The herd of ponies stabled next to the arena ran skittishly from their barn en masse.
"Okay, now it makes sense," said the instructor, patting the horse on his nose.
My daughter was waiting at the gate with a different horse. We began taping her riding. Beetle was groomed and settled. The next day he was his normal gentle giant self with a 8 year old perched confidently on his back.
I will never forget the site of that powerful animal showing the world exactly what it meant to be free.
This is the most un-Easter-ish of blog entries but it involves an image I simply cannot get out of my head.
Last week my daughter, who rides at a local barn, asked me to shoot 5-10 minutes of her riding for a school project. After a quick tutorial on her Iphone, she led the horse, Beetle, to the arena, where my daughter proceeded to ride him. Or tried to ride him. Beetle tried to buck her off several times before the instructor decided to give it a shot. Beetle would have none of it and decided to really put some effort into getting rid of the pesky human on his back.
The instructor quickly decided that whatever was bothering Beetle wasn't going to get any better with a rider on him. She took off his saddle and gave him the run of the arena.
I have never seen anything like it in my life. This horse, who typically has children younger than 10 riding him, turned into Beetle the Devil Horse. He raced around the arena, a thousand pounds of flashing black flank, bucking and galloping, slamming into the corners with such speed and force, stopping short to spray gravel half way up the arena wall. He went down on his knees, moaning as if possessed, shook his long neck from side to side, got up and ran to the other side of the arena, kicking up his heels in a mad dance.
At this point I wasn't clear if the instructor was trying to wear him out so that my daughter could ride him. I was in the observation area thinking that there was no way in hell any child of mine was going to get on that horse today. Finally the instructor walked to the center of the arena, speaking in a low voice to the horse, who was at least 20 yards away. He heard her, walking slowly towards her, finally resting his head on her shoulder.
"Are we going to be friends now?" the instructor asked.
The horse tossed his head a few more times before she led him out of the arena.
Thunder rolled across the valley. Torrents of rain followed. The herd of ponies stabled next to the arena ran skittishly from their barn en masse.
"Okay, now it makes sense," said the instructor, patting the horse on his nose.
My daughter was waiting at the gate with a different horse. We began taping her riding. Beetle was groomed and settled. The next day he was his normal gentle giant self with a 8 year old perched confidently on his back.
I will never forget the site of that powerful animal showing the world exactly what it meant to be free.
