Hope

On a break from the student experience of the City, which generally involved beer, dancing, and courting headaches, we went up to Hope, to ride horses.

It was in March, and the views were lemon-yellow. I had a fiesty horse, with its own sense of where we'd be going and what we'd be doing.

We rode high up a bank.

'How do I get down?!' I cried, to my companions.

I was led back down, with someone who had much more command over that horse than I ever would.
I am thankful to her, but part of me kind of wishes I could have stayed there.

Caf Fean