My Escape This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.


   Inmy opinion there is nothing better than a trail ride with my favorite horse,Cash, or waking up on a Sunday and looking out the window to see a gorgeous day.I can hardly wait to eat my breakfast and hurry down to the barn. It has been ourtradition for several months to take time to relax and enjoy nature.

WhenI arrive at the barn, he'll be standing in his stall, eating ravenously andlooking for the carrot I always bring. I'll take him out of his stall, brush andbridle him quickly, and then we're off into the wilderness of Carver. Cash findsit enjoyable to leave, just the two of us, and spend quality time bonding afterthe hard work of our lesson the day before. I'm sure his favorite part is that hedoes not have to bear the heavy saddle; this is very informal for him.

Most mornings, the air is crisp and fresh. We start down the trail andeverything is calm and serene. The path is canopied with oak and birch trees,which provide wonderful colors in fall. Before long the sounds of the roaddisappear, and it feels as if I am the only person alive. It is the ultimatetherapy listening to birds chirping and squirrels looking for food, such a changefrom my busy weekday schedule.

A small brook babbles in the distance,adding to the serenity. In a few minutes, we are at the brook. There was a timewhen Cash would have nothing to do with the water, but since he learned that itis cool and feels good on his feet, he loves it. A little while longer and wewill come to a clearing. This is our chance to really bond. He loves taking offat full speed just as he did when he was a young race horse. He reaches the endof the field in seconds and returns to a quiet walk. Just beyond a thin patch ofwoods lie several cranberry bogs. In the fall every field is a vibrant red filledwith cranberries waiting to be picked. Cash even tried one once, but finding itdistastefully sour, never touched them again.

By now, I have beenreminiscing for a while and it is time to return to the barn before people getworried. We walk around the bogs and return on the trail we came down. We prepareto return to the world, and I'm ready to face people and return to my busy dailyschedule.




This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.






Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback