Friday, March 30, 2007


Summer mornings found me on horseback with the gentle rocking of my animal’s gait making my life feel less like a supplication. I walked him past the pecan groves that stretched a seemingly endless mile. Cool air emanated from the corridors of perfectly aligned trees. A dense fog hung tensely, moisture plumed from the ground; The night’s watering not yet fully evaporated. A bitter smell like pitch pine rose to meet me as the horse’s hooves crushed the thick green hulls of nuts that had fallen from the trees, shaken loose during midnight thievery. I soaked this in, the pungency, the moisture, the solitude, the abbreviated notion of living in the moment, not thinking about my life or the life of my elders, letting it all exist, this intermingling of freedom and passivity before the harshness of the sun could burn it away. Aleathia Drehmer 2007

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