By David Henson
I admire the turquoise day as the buckskin neck tugs the reins through my loosened grip. The hot tongue slaps the burbling stream. Blueberry bushes crowd the trail ahead. The fruits are big as the tip of my thumb! Wait … don’t grizzlies eat berries? Calm down. The horse would know from the scent if a bear were near. Are we upwind or down? The huge head finally rises dripping with creek. I feel a shudder ripple through the flanks. Hooves clop the stony path. How do you make a U-turn on this thing?
“I write for the enjoyment and with hope of touching a reader from time to time.” – the writer