He was a big horse, many hands tall. He was a dark reddish brown, and his mane was long; blowing in the evening snow. The wind, the change of seasons, what he smelled, set fire in his legs. As I approached him, he shook his head upward, and let out a shrill noise. Like the wind, he ran and ran. Across the meadow I could hear his hooves against the frozen ground.
I raised my camera, and tried to focus, but he was gone in a flash. In the swirling snow, it was difficult to find him in the camera lens. I started walking back toward my truck to leave. I could still hear him running free. I turned for one last look. I couldnt believe it! Here he came running straight toward me. I threw up my hands as he passed in front of me, and jumped a small stream.
I just pointed the camera and heard the shutter click. The look in his eyes said only one thing to me. If I can jump this stream, I can jump the Rio Grande.