I pick up the small metal box and open it, inside a dead flower is shriveled up on the red velvet bedding. I cringe for the poor flower, such beauty I destroyed; it died when I picked it. Such beauty it left from where I picked it from, but now in its box, it is here to suffer with me, both of us removed. When I am in a good mood, I can ignore that cringe and I let the flower instead honor the place from where it grew. I use it as a symbol of it, like a mirror that I can turn to and see the reflection, and stay alive. Ah, but nights like tonight it is difficult seeing things in the better perspective, I can't help but remind myself the flower was picked a couple months ago and I haven't since went back.
I walk over to my computer and plug it in; I might as well use it if I am not going to go to sleep. I sit there waiting for the loading process to be complete. Finally, there it is the background photograph, a picture from that place, the place where the flower grew.
Okay, so I call the place home, but only to myself. To other people I call it the fields on the highway. They say home is where the heart is, so I guess calling it home would be a logical name from that viewpoint. But then again, it just isn't logical, besides I don't usually express heartfelt expression through names, through people.
Home to me is that place. It is that place that always smells like flowers, trees, and soil in a way apart from the rest of the world. It is like a unique garden, designed from the heart of nature itself, it stands apart from the rest of nature - it is the display. I feel like it is my place, I am drawn to it; I build my dreams around it. It is a dream. It is who I am. I found horses through this place. I found Hope. I guess that is me that I found, I found myself.
I am Hope.
I am the girl with honey blond hair and a petite frame. I am the one that can run fast, and stop suddenly. I can reach higher than my arms should be able to reach. I am the one that cannot determine my own eye color.
My life at 16 revolves around horses, simply because I love horses.
My first language is body language, because my friends don't talk, they are animals.
My biggest secret, myself, that is because no one really knows me, I don't go in-depth about myself.
I sit at my computer trying to find an excuse about why I should be able to go back home. It isn't easy, trying to find your way onto private property. It isn't lucky that this time of year it would be awkward to even go since there is haying going on in the fields.
I am welcome to go to the place, as far as I know. However, I don't talk to the owner much anymore, and my family doesn't want me to, nor do I. Not being associated with the owner, excludes you from being able to walk there, and for me loses my ability to act as if I own the place, like I once did.
I ponder a rising thought for a moment, the same thought that has awakened inside of me a hundred times already this week. I try to drown the thought, it gives me too much excitement, and I hate the following inevitable heartbreak.
The thought, I would call a day dream. It always moves me into a state, I start imagining then it takes me deeper and deeper, luring me into its' sticky trap.
I try to find a way to take my own mare, Blossom there. I think about how I could go see her every day and ride her around all the trails, gallop through the fields and then I could sit there and write in my diary while looking over the pages. I know that there isn't a way to find that possible. Blossom isn't used to being on a highway, and the fences aren't very secure. Besides that she isn't used to staying out after dark, or even in weather. She would be grazing constantly, and she is already overweight, plus that would hurt her hernia. I doubt I would even be able to catch and ride her, her behavior would probably change and then she'd get used to the other horses and miss them when she had to come home. I doubt she'd care about missing out on her oats, or swatting at flies 24/7 and I guess that would save me money in every department. Gas Gas Gas. Money Money Money. Time Time Time. I would have to have my license to see her every day; I would have to have money to drive there every day. I would have to have a sedative to keep me in control whenever I left her. I would be afraid of her getting hurt, getting out, getting stolen, getting scared, and getting sick. I can't leave her, and I think the feeling there is mutual. Even if she did get used to being there, that would be a problem. Coming home for her to her barn and little fence all alone, would be cruel. There is the chance she could have a new barn done by then and I could get her a companion.
It seems out of the question, but I still can't let it go. Maybe I am being selfish for wanting to take her there; maybe I just want to see the place that bad. I don't think so though, Blossom would love it. I can't imagine why she wouldn't miss the place too. She always wants grass, she always wants attention, she wants room, and she’s been on this property for almost 5 years without leaving. That means she has spent her time on one acre, after knowing 140+ acres. It is not the flower and I alone, there is her as well.
I'll be positive then, saying I did have transportation; the place is almost 20 minutes away from my house. I could keep an eye on her, I could put her where there is low grass, and I could put her in the barn when the weather went sour. I could even put a grazing muzzle on her. Hopefully she would remember the place and know not to escape fences or freak out at traffic. Hopefully the other horses would help her out, stay with her to stand in the shade, sleep in the darkness etc....
I would be more than happy to live there with her all summer, and I would defiantly spend my days with her. I could set up a canopy tent and take a cell phone with me. I wouldn't have to be scared of wildlife, I could run off the property easily anyhow and across the highway to safety. I could always invite someone along with me too. I could have the owner keep an eye on her as well.
Of course my parents would have to agree, and I think even though they know the owner isn't to be trusted they wouldn't view him as a threat. And then the owner would have to agree, but he has suggested this many times before and he is still nice to me, and it wouldn't take him out of his way any.
That would be my dream summer; it would even be a vacation. Going to my favorite place in the world without coming home to feed Blossom, turn her out and muck her stable. Don't get me wrong I love all that stuff, it would be nice to have a summer off though.
It would be better than doing my dream horse show at the place in the world I most want to see, Maclay in Kentucky that is.
I open notepad on my computer and I write out my thoughts, once I get them down I realize they aren’t as complex as they felt in my head. I sigh, and decide to shut off the computer and go to sleep.
I stare at the background picture a final few minutes until it disappears, and the screen goes black.
“Goodnight” I say to my teddy bear horse kissing the white diamond on its forehead, and placing the black horse under my arm. The horse represents black beauty and it has a sewn on bridle and saddle, I got the teddy bear years ago, when I was no older than eleven from my older have brother, and I’ve only spent one lonely night without it since.