There is a paddock along the road that skirts our town where horses are kept.
The old man is there every afternoon at almost the same time. His white horse waits near the fence in anticipation of his arrival – always accompanied by his little dog. The man obviously brings food for his horse, which stands quietly nibbling at something on the ground. The white-haired old man frequently spends a late afternoon hour sitting on a low folding stool next to his horse, reading while his dog wanders around the veld or sits next to him.
On some afternoons the man takes a short walk before settling next to his horse. When the weather is inclement, he sits in his vehicle and reads while his horse either nibbles on the ground or stands patiently at the fence.
The day feels ‘right’ if the old man is in his place when I pass. I feel relieved if my timing is off and I see his distinctive vehicle approaching. So regular is this sighting that I feel a concern rising if the man and his horse are not at their post: I check the time, scan the passing traffic for his familiar vehicle in case he is late, and then wonder if all is well with him if I don’t see him.
It is a relief when he returns after a short absence: his presence has become part of the rhythm of driving along that section of the road. Who is he? What does he think about? For how long have he and his horse been together? Why does he visit his horse at this particular time of the day?
Then the dreaded pandemic arrived. It was months before we could venture out, during which time I couldn’t help wondering about the old man and his horse. How were they getting on? Once we could get out and about there was no sign of either the man or his horse for weeks. What had happened?
On the day I saw his familiar vehicle parked next to the fence again I felt relieved – all is well, I thought. He hasn’t been seen for a long time. Times are hard – anything could have happened. Then I chanced to drive behind him on the road leading out of town yesterday afternoon. Before I turned off for home, I watched his vehicle climb the hill – and I felt a sense of peace.
So beautifully told! It has brought tears to my eyes, despite the, for today at least, happy ending.
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Thank you.
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Jy skryf pragtig, Anne.🤗
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Dankie, Una, ek is bly jy het did geniet.
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This is a lovely story. Would you ever tell him?
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I don’t know who he is. He seems to have such a close bond with his horse that I wouldn’t want to intrude.
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I bow to your judgement, but I thought it might really please him
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A lovely story Anne, and a lovely horse! I remember driving through the countryside when I was a (horse-crazy) child, and so many places would have horses out in the fields. It got to where I could anticipate which farms they were – a lovely sight on my long school bus ride. Now you hardly ever see a horse in the countryside….so expensive to keep and no one has enclosed fields anymore.
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Thank you Joni, both for your appreciation and for your contribution. It is interesting the way we can anticipate what we might see when we follow the same route regularly.
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Phew! A happy ending to the story.
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It is for now – it is lovely to observe the close connection between the two.
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Poignant story. I would love to know more about him. Have you ever wanted to stop and talk to him?
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I have often thought of stopping to talk to him, yet I am reluctant to intrude on what is obviously a special time for him.
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He might actually welcome the occasional human company. One never knows, and you’d know pretty quickly which way the wind blows. As an old phone ad once told us, “Reach out and touch someone.” 😉
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That is true 🙂
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This is lovely Anne, I love the fact that he sits with his horse, reading.
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One can almost feel the communion between them 🙂
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I can empathise with your comfort in the familiar.
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The more often one follows a certain route, the more anticipation there is of familiar landmarks or sightings.
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I was hoping for the outcome you wrote of. There are comforting rhythms in our lives that have been disrupted. Nicely written, Anne.
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‘Comforting rhythms’ … you have hit the nail on its head. Thank you for that!
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Glad that the story ended on a happy note. Lovely write up.
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I am happy that you enjoyed it, Shail.
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Pingback: THE OLD MAN AND HIS HORSE — Something Over Tea – kristina's blog
I wonder what happened
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I still see him occasionally.
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