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It
is a late spring
morning in the
south central
United States.
A low-lying mist
hugs the contours
of the land, lending
an air of mystery
and anticipation
to the dawning
of a new day.
Dampened by the
fog, sounds of
the earth awakening
seem distant and
surreal. Birdcalls
echo. A slight
breeze whispers
through the pines.
The sound of hoofbeats
and the high-pitched
whinny of a foal
reveal the tantalizing
presence of horses.
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The
sound of hoofbeats
and the high-pitched
whinny of a foal
reveal the tantalizing
presence of horses.
As the mist yields
to a bright
morning sun, a
magnificent white
stallion appears.
Standing alertly
on the slight
rise of a hill,
his beauty is
ethereal. At his
side is a small
group of mares.
Feminine counterparts
to his exotic
elegance, they
graze serenely
under his benevolent
protection.
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Suddenly
he hears the challenging
call of another
stallion. Raising
his head to scan
the horizon, his
nostrils flare,
drinking in the
scent of the intruder.
Then, with the inborn
grace of a dancer,
he whirls and charges
down the hill, pausing
in his advance only
when he determines
the other stallion
is safely outside
his domain. With
his sovereignty
unchallenged, he
gallops back to
his mares, circling
them tightly, ears
flicking backward
and forward in the
timeless and universal
language of the
equine. Pride and
nobility evident
with each fluid
move, the stallion
finally settles
in to graze, ever
watchful, yet suffused
with a glow of contentment.
The new day has
begun... |
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