By the pasture

Sometimes I'll go out with Virginia, our dog, on walking jaunts down our gravel road. Along the way are two pastures of horses. The first pasture coincidentally has white horses, and the second mostly brown. Both sidle over at our approach eager for the promise of fresh tall grass beyond the pasture fence that I feed to them by hand.

I like stroking their muscular necks and inhaling their equine, horsey scent. I also like to watch the dog watch the horses. They seem to have an unspoken conduct between them. Both regard each other with mutual curiosity and as I watch, the three of us - man, dog, horse - are drawn into a silent relationship of sorts between species. Subtle and unspoken it's hard to put into words, like describing the smell of horses.