Story

Once More. “What is that noise?” I kept asking myself. “Am I going mad?” Enough was enough. No more racing towards distant ridgelines with false hope. My motivation simply couldn’t survive peering over another crest only to find utter disappoint on the other side, another set of endless rolling hills. I needed to find out what that noise was, partly out of curiosity and partly out of the ability to prove that I wasn’t going crazy. So of course, I did the most logical thing, something that I should have done an hour or more earlier. I set my sights on the tallest peak around and started climbing. More than once I debated about turning around, especially after my hiking shoes began to overflow with prickly foxtails. “This better be worth it”, I grumbled underneath my breath. Then I saw them. Out of the corner of my eye black dots began to dance across the horizon. Swinging the camera off my shoulder I quickly zoomed in close to investigate. “Yessss!” rang out in my mind. I had stumbled upon forty powerful, wild horses casually grazing in the midday sun. Today was my day, even if I had to pick foxtails out of my socks and shoes for an eternity.