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When I close my eyes I begin my journey. I always start at the house that constantly changes; at the moment it is an angular dome that alternates wood and glass standing a little above two stories. A wrap around porch surrounds the circumference of the house with a little covered walkway to an old two story A-frame barn with light colored wood that shows beneath the red chipped paint that is surrounded by an equally light wooden fence. A small mountain range encircles the back of the house like a half moon. It is more of a mesa, with the rich desert colors of sand, mahogany, and brown with patches of green here and there.
Upon leaving the house I follow a little well-worn dirt path. On my left there is a small waterfall that cascades from the side of an offshoot of the mesa into a shallow pond, which in turn feeds a brook that chatters to me as I walk. It is not long before I come to a bridge that curves over the little creek. After crossing it I pause to wait for my companion that usually joins me from the heavily wooded area with towering evergreens and oaks to my right, a place that I have not walked. Tonight a mountain lion strides out of the forest. Her back nearly reaches my waist and my hand drops to feel her tawny, sleek, velvety coat beneath my fingers. We walk through the lightly wooded area that contains large trees leaves of fiery red, pumpkin orange, and sunny yellow fall around us.
Soon we reach an area where a white fence starts from the base of the Mesa which towers above us about twenty feet curving away from the fence. The trees have drawn back as well from this area. My companion melts back into the forest as my gaze rests upon an extremely interesting structure; this is the point at which a place that I have been in my dreams becomes a place to visit. A triangular pristine white object that seems to glow rests lightly on a pedestal. Climbing the white fence I sit upon it watching the strange object contemplating how it arrived here and why it exists. For some reason I do not ever go over the fence just sit and wait. It is surrounded by grass the color of emeralds; violets and daisies dot the landscape. Smiling I raise my head to the sun just before it lowers behind the rim of the mesa.
Soon I hear steps behind me. Slowly turning I capture his gaze in mine while I watch him do his dance. He is of the blackest night without stars his mane and tail sweep the forest floor as he touches the sky with is hooves. Nickering he trots forward until he stands beside me. Slowly I slide off the fence onto his back twining my fingers in his mane, tightening my legs around his body. Stepping lightly forward until he is sure I have my balance, we survey our surroundings. Smiling and whispering softly I reach down and smooth my fingers across his silky neck. With a leap forward we are off! His lope is so smooth it takes no effort at all to stay on his back as we race through the trees away from the strange object that now battles the gloom of darkness cast by the mesa.
Galloping down the pathway between the trees the fallen leaves crunching beneath his hooves, and I laugh with joy. It is almost as if I am flying; the feeling of absolute freedom rings through me. He brings me to a sunny meadow where the mesa has not yet taken the sun away. Sliding off his back to the green flowered carpet beneath me, I begin to pick flowers while he drops to his belly and precedes to roll about like a dog that has found a favorite scent in which to cover himself with. Lying there he allows me to braid the flowers into his mane, watching me with huge eyes. The feeling of absolute contentment is felt throughout my body.
All too soon the light begins to fade from the sky as the clouds turn a brilliant red with pinks dappling here and there. With a sigh I bury my face in the horse’s mane and throw my arms around his neck whispering my thanks I drift off.