The Exposè Of A Dream

All dreams are harbored deep inside and cost something to bring into the light… 

Some of my earliest horse memories begin with my mother recounting stories of terrible accidents that had occurred to people she knew in her small Idaho farming community. I’ll be honest, I don’t remember what prompted these horrific tales, but looking back on it now I must have talked to her about my desire to ride horses, or own a horse, and so she felt the need to warn me about the possible dangers I would be facing.

The next clear memory of me and horses involved an older cousin I looked up to, a jubilant day in October, and a slightly muddy pasture. I was ten, and my mother had decided to travel to Idaho from our home in Utah to enlist the help of her doctor-brother to assist her