In the Presence of a Palomino
As a birthday present from her auntie, my grand-daughter was delighted to spend a morning at a local stable. A couple of other children were there and they all happily mucked in, brushed down the horses, fed them and plaited ribbons in their manes.
Now, I’ll admit, it’s possible I may have got even more pleasure out of being with these beautiful creatures than the children did. I don’t usually have the opportunity to be that close and just to touch them — lay my cheek against their warm sides — was a delight.
From time to time, people arrived to take one of the horses out for a ride. They came with their equipment, saddles, helmet and all the paraphernalia you need for riding a horse. (I’m not too bothered about the riding part. I just enjoy being with them.)
Anyway, this woman came along and said she’d come to ride Charlie. Spent some time setting things up, then went down a side path to fetch the horse from some other part of the stable.
Me, still stroking and murmuring to a brown and white horse. Kids brushing down a chestnut mare. Horses munching on hay.
Until I looked up.
And a vision appeared.
A golden horse.
It came forward, stepping daintily, elegantly…and my heart stopped. I could hardly take a breath. I have never seen such a beautiful creature.
A golden horse.
They call it a Palomino. Doesn’t do it justice. Doesn’t describe this magnificent animal, like a fantasy in a wondrous dream.
If there is a god, and I’m sceptical to say the least, this horse could convince me there is a creator.