I can feel the worn, rough leather in the soft palm of my hand. 

My two feet and her six hooves hit the sandy arena floor in rhythm.

The sweet smell of hay and wood fills the balmy, thick air. 

We walk. 

I approach the old plastic mounting block.

My hands gather the reins on top of her neck. 

The patient animal waits as I place my dirty boot in the stirrup. 

We begin.

I find my balance.

My heel gently taps her side.

The world starts to move underneath me.

We trot. 

I begin to bounce- up down, up down.

My body finds the tempo of the gait. 

The horse moves faster.

We canter.

I see the jump ahead. 

My eyes look forward. 

The ground disappears

We jump.

I try to focus. 

My heart is soaring.

The problems I face cannot keep up.

We fly.