I did a short ride today, almost too short. But then again not.
It is a grey day today
The clouds blanket the sky so the mountains look somber, the grass ‘quiet’, sounds muted, birds more still, butterflies absent.
Our ride is appropriate.
Inland, along farm roads, between fields where sheep have their heads down, barely visible above the grass, where cattle lie or graze dulled by the absence of sun on their flanks.
We warm up walking easily, Willow with a little more pace than Luke that makes for a more comfortable walk. Past springbok, dark and light, young ones too, mixing with hundreds of Guinea fowl.
We trot and all is well. We canter and I debate whether the desire to canter outweighs the pain in the back ( strange that, not the but 😂).
I hear my mother; leave something on the table. Quit while you ahead!
So we trot and walk for a few hours leaving cantering as a memory and a hope for future times.
We pass through groves of gum trees (go figure 😜) which on this gray day make sounds that mimic the sea when it’s grumpy as the wind moves through them.
I watch a Bataleur roll above us, powerful in his world. Keeping pace with our trotting, rolling , dipping, disappearing.
A car stops to let us pass and I see a little girl, dummy in her mouth, on her fathers lap, to get a better view of us through the open window – eyes like saucers. Fascinated? Scared? Who knows, perhaps a seed is sown to follow in our footsteps one day
A special way to end 5 days of riding through some of the most exquisite scenery surely God ever created.