Air thick with algae and driftwood decaying, breeze light but crisp, the lapping of lake waves kept us company.
The leather reins braided, playing loosely between my thumb and index finger.
Into the water, hocks pumping, somehow we float, swim, snorting, then back to the beach.
Down on two knees, a roll in the sand to scratch, wet mud in crevices cooling, the power of ages paws its way to standing.
Back on, bareback gallop across familiar trails all the way home.