Recently completed, the new stables on The Mall for the Park Police horses is part of one of our regular morning routes. In the last couple of weeks, we’ve been able to view the horses hanging their heads outside their stable enclosures but on this day, the horses were outside in their paddock. While we don’t know their actual names (we need to get inside when the education center is open to find out these details), we’ve named them ourselves after the hosts of our most recent favorite show on PBS, People of the North: Arne, Frida and Stig — as stoic Norwegians with a glint in their eyes of humor that often only they (or other Nordics) understand, these names seem fitting for our new horse friends as their demeanor is just that, stoic, on these early morning meetups or they may slowly bat their eyelashes at us in recognition of our presence. But their presence, fully themselves, is that of quiet ponderance that they bear the heavy burden of protecting, but that their glee is hidden deep behind their voluminous chocolatey eyes.
I grew up with the Black Stallion and other horse fiction, but never became a horse girl — it was so far away from any possibility that I never dreamed of riding, visiting or owning such an animal ever in my life. I’ve known friends with horses, and I have a friend now that raises ponies in Maine far from the reaches of our city lights here in DC. Now that we are regularly visiting our new friends though I wonder — could I become a horse person at midlife? Is that possible? Their demeanor has an instant calming effect most certainly — they can hold a stare like no other animal I’ve met, and they seem to listen to my questions — though much like dogs, I don’t think they have any intention of answering me, or doing as I ask. But they listen, and stand, and look — sometimes casting their gaze away to swish away an annoyance, but then they look back and acknowledge that I’m still standing there waiting for their acknowledgement. Perhaps we can be stoic together.
3 Coffees A Day 