Let's talk about ponies.

Yes, you read that correctly--and, no, I'm not talking about the My Little variety. I'm not talkin' plastic or cartoon-y or abnormally, violently colored ponies. I'm talkin' real-live-beautiful-masterpieces-of-equine-creation ponies.

Like this stock example!

Today, while browsing Wal-Mart with some friends, I came across a helmet that was obviously intended for little girls under the age of eight. Naturally, I was also intrigued. The helmet in question had eyes, and a snout, and freckles (?), and--lo and behold--protruding ears and a horn. It was a unicorn helmet! I squealed and flailed and demanded that pictures be taken and very nearly purchased it until I was dragged away.

This somewhat embarrassing (yet totally normal--for me, anyway) incident just served to remind me of how much I love horses and ponies. For as long as I can remember, "a pony" has been the #1 item on my birthday and Christmas and Valentine's Day and Arbor Day and St. Patrick's Day wishlist. Clearly, this is a testament both to my ongoing adoration, and also to the fact that I never have gotten that darn pony. For several years, though, I did get horseback riding lessons. I was never interested in showing the horses, and never was a particularly good rider, so the lessons were eventually discontinued. Still, there was something truly magical about those lessons. I will never forget a horse's esoteric scent of straw and sweat and power; or the feel of a velvety muzzle thrust into my palm; or the moment when the horse beneath me shifted from a trot to a canter, or when we were suddenly, beautifully airborne to clear a jump. There is a certain trust, a certain connection, between horse and rider that is necessary for any movement to occur at all. I was never an expert horsewoman by any stretch of the imagination, and only understood this connection at its most base level--but it is something that I still dream about, sometimes, or that I think about when I'm lying awake in bed. The rhythmic pound of hooves in my memory often lulls me to sleep.

And, c'mon, they're just beautiful, and make funny sounds. And you can totally shoot arrows from their back if you're super cool, like Legolas and friends.

Although I never got that pony, I will never fail to bond with a fictional pony that is presented to me (Epona, anyone? Agro?!), and will spend the better part of a video game riding a pony around like a fool if the opportunity arises. Furthermore, my mom always told me that, someday, my kind, fabulously wealthy husband would buy me a pony--so perhaps it's just a matter of time. Or perhaps I should just start saving up for my own stable (or rad unicorn helmet) now...

PONY POWER
Dani