Jess is finally going! That New Zealand holiday is at its dawn, and all she can think of is landscapes, walks and adventures. But what she does not expect to find, is what is waiting around the corner - someone.
Someone who will turn her holiday up...
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It was strange, Jess mused, that it could be inhumane to attempt to sit atop a pet dog, or even a pig, but no one had any qualms when it came to horses.
Three days had allowed anticipation and excitement to slowly creep into Jess, like syrup into a sponge cake. There was a bounce in her step; a glint in her eyes. By Saturday morning, she could think of nothing but the thrill of galloping through huge, sprawling pastures, hair flowing in the wind. The steady pounding of hooves granting a rhythm, a beat, in time to the heart - the heart of the adventure.
Not that she had ever been horse riding.
This adventure had remained on her list of most-anticipated excursions for the longest time, which was odd, considering you could go horse riding pretty much anywhere.
But somehow, it had not felt right to Jess to go horse-riding anywhere else, before this trip. Sure, that meant that she had had to wait but at least, now, it would be extra special.
The wide open fields and country of New Zealand seemed to her like the haven of all things outdoors. Plus, it was to be a horse trek, so the scenery of the country would be very much appreciated.
She was barely able to contain the fizzing, bubbling excitement within her, as they drove up to the farm.
The coarse, dusty earth of the path crunched loudly beneath the family's feet, their voices carrying on the breeze, above the subtle noise around them in the way only voices seem to be able to. And these voices were of the most piercing kind - excited, thrilled - carrying in their animation.
There was a compact clump of sheds and barn-like buildings at the end of the path, and Jess led the way over there, squinting against the glare of the sunlight shining off the brilliantly bleached ground.
In the distance, the piercing blue of the sky was punctuated by a collection of puffy blankets of greys and whites. Jess hated to think of the power they held over the fate of their adventure.
Aunt Charlotte, though, assured her there was lots of time - the day was, after all, just beginning.
At the first shed, around the corner, they were greeted by the staff, introduced to their guide, and their gear. There may have been a saddle, or reins, or something of the sort. Aunt Charlotte, who alone of the group was a fairly experienced rider, might have discussed with the guide the need to take weather gear. Safety instructions may even have been imparted. But as far as Jess knew, or rather, as far as Jess would later remember, there was just the horses.
The moment they had made the turn of the path around the buildings, Jess's attention had been solely and undividedly devoted to them. To the creatures in the paddock.
There they stood, heads held majestically high, manes tumbling down their backs; roan, bay, chestnut, grey. Occasionally there was a swish of the tail, a swish of the head, the beginning of a brief trot.
