Dear Wigleaf,
Saw this picture and thought of you, then of horses, then the sea:
There's a couple in a car in a kiss for a director who stands close beside them with a camera and its man. There's a megaphone. The car's on a cliff and below is the ocean so I see again my friend's mare's somersault through a hidden shoreline pool. We were kids near the surf and the tide had come up. We should've known better but in the moment knew best just the gallop, the waves' crash, our ears plugged with pulse and the wind of our running. Our horses weren't entirely convinced but we urged them onwards, pressing legs to their bends to break away. Then the somersault and the girl off in the water and her mare streaking back how we'd come, field tail salt-snarled and flagged. There were tourists walking with shoes in their hands, gulls swooping, and the day had turned fine, having begun fogged but by then the sun burning through, horizon visibly distant. I don't know how no neck snapped or the mare's coming back but she did and the girl got on again because you come off a horse you get back on was the rule. And she cranked her reins tight and the mare's head stood high in the haze and their eyes rolled a little and that friend was tougher than I'd've been, cruise speeds soon again reached in all our herd's thunder.

- - -

Read SN's "When You Love Somebody"

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