I'm realizing more and more how special the love for horses is. It's very unique, and doesn't touch everyone. Trying to explain it is like trying to describe color to someone who was born blind. It's intangible, ethereal, and resists definition. No matter how close I get to putting it into words, the other person never walks away with a true understanding or a newborn adoration for equines like I hope to instill. The love just is, or it isn't.
This quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson touches upon the strength of it. Yet again, though, even through the words of a great poet, the only people who seem to truly understand the words are horse people themselves.
“Riding a horse is not a gentle hobby, to be picked up and laid down like a game of solitaire. It is a grand passion. It seizes a person whole and once it has done so, he/she will have to accept that his life will be radically changed.”
As much as I try to teach my husband this desperate passion for the horse, I don't think he will ever truly grasp it. I suppose his soul was not sewn with the hair from a horse's mane like mine. It will remain a privilege, given by the gods, to those of us who do love horses.