The lady rode despite the risks because it was in her to ride and because riding addressed her deepest yearnings. Riding swept her beyond the walls of the manor and into a greater natural world where she was free of all but the rhythm of the horse's hooves on the earth. On a horse, a woman is Frau Gode leading the hunt on her white horse in German fable, the Norse goddess Mani driving her Alsvider across the night with the moon, Velvet streaking across the finish line to victory. On a horse, a woman is reborn as a mounted Valkyrie who until that magical moment lived only in dream. She is a savior riding to set spirits free, her own among them.
Women know a better way to claim the bird's freedom.
Freedom, Epona thought, hungrily. Freedom such as the horsemen must know, sitting on those beautiful animals as they run across the . . . Imagine a sea of grass. Not sailing ships but galloping horses, and a horizon unlimited by mountain peaks. If so, simply or, if you prefer, send an email, and you will be added to my email list.