Mare's Tails - Republished

The wind was howling in Malibu today. A eucalyptus tree toppled over and barely missed the house it once shaded. Down by the beach, consecutive gusts created rivers of blowing sand that swept over the ground and erased footprints within its path. Mare's tails were blown in long wisps atop the crest of each wave.

In the early afternoon, there was a low tide, a negative tide of close to two feet. Taking photographs of the tidepools and experimenting with my new camera seemed to be a great idea at the time. Of course, that was before the wind started showing some major attitude.

Although grains of sand sometimes ended up in my eyes and my skin was sometimes abraded by the relentless blasts, pictures were on my mind, and somehow or another I planned on taking those photos. And, I did. And, it was a lesson in futility, especially when attempting to take pictures of wildlife while being blown sideways, backward, forward, you name it.



Was it worth it? Well, it kept me busy for two hours, and it was good exercise. What struck me as odd was that a couple of guys on horseback would ride by the day after I published the post about Apollo. I'm unaccustomed to that sight. Maybe it's a sign. Ha!

Apollo

It was rapture at first sight. Handsome, mesmerizing, radiant. He was all of this and more as he pranced around the paddock. His rump reflected the warm rays of the morning light with the metallic sheen of a newly minted copper penny. Surely, an Olympian; a Greek god with hooves.

"Apollo. That's what I'll call him."

A four-year-old strawberry roan Appaloosa gelding. He was one quarter Arabian with a blaze on his face in the shape of a broad dagger bearing a cross on its hilt.

Green broke and proud cut. That's what the man who sold him to us for $500.00 had said. Those terms were foreign to me, but not for long. Apollo had some lessons to teach me; and, he taught me well, often with very little warning.