AND THE FIRE FLEW

It is final examination day, Peregrine's last lesson. I choose a warm, sunny day to take him out. While I saddle up Peregrine, Timothy tacks up Caranthir. Both horses seem excited. Peregrine knows something is different today. When I am all done, I put my left foot in the left stirrup and slowly raise myself up. Peregrine is watching me. I swing my right leg over and carefully settle down into the saddle. Peregrine's ears are up. "Walk on," I say. Peregrine moves forward, uncertain at first, then more confident. I move the right rein out and push with my right knee. Peregrine follows all my directions. I lead him out of the gate. "Trot," and I gently signal him with my heels. Peregrine smoothly enters into a quick trot. Timothy has finished and now he is trotting Caranthir alongside us. "Canter," I say, and the two horses leap forward into the woods. Peregrine is soon far ahead of the black horse, though, his ears forward, his face alert. He tosses his head up and whinnies a pure, resonating, joyful laugh. I laugh too. The fire lives and will continue to live. We gallop through the woods and beyond. Who knows where we'll be taken next?