Friday, March 23, 2007

The Little Horse Discovers Mountains


The little horse did not dilly-dally on the hike home. He knew he had had a close call, wandering through a desert area without proper supplies.

One question stayed with him as he hungrily marched down the trail. Where were all the pears he had heard about on the desert? He loved fruit and he was hungry. Weren’t there supposed to be prickly pears he could eat?

Back at the parking lot he took one last look around. In the distance he saw towering hills, and behind them, blue slopes of mountains. How they called to him. The desert was beautiful, but the little horse felt drawn to the mountains as if by an invisible rope. They reminded him of his early years in New Hampshire, at the Red House. He remembered gazing at mountains from the porch of the house. He felt a an exciting surge ripple through him. His little tail flicked up and down and he shook his main. His ears pricked forward on their own account. His tail arched higher and higher. Mountains! Some day he would climb them.

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