The Returning Rider

This week, I located my paddock boots in my somewhat less chaotic new home and pulled them on. Their characteristic, leathery squeaking made me calm down after a whole day of worrying about a succession of things: new barn, new trainer, new horse, new everything. I hadn’t been on a horse in five months, which felt horrifying in itself, but now I was going to change it all up in my quest to right that glaring wrong.

For the last eight years, I’ve ridden at a dressage barn in the sleepy North...