Tree limbs littered the roadway on the drive out to the barn. The sky goes from light to dark and back to light again. Occasionally the sun breaks through the clouds and causes the raindrops dripping from the tree limbs to shimmer in the sunlight. The clouds soon scud across the sky again and close the blue gap. Once again all is gray.
Rain pounds down on the metal barn roof while wind rattles the barn doors and whistles down the alleyway. There are creaking and groaning noises coming from the rafters. When Boo and I crossed the short end of the arena by the barn door the wind whipped up and it sounded like a locomotive was about to burst through into the arena.
It happens so quickly. Boo throws his head up and whirls away from the barn door, every muscle tensed for flight, and before I can react he is heading for the opposite end of the arena. I try to bend him to slow his flight. I am conscious of not hauling back on the reins, instead I keep them elastic not wanting to increase his panic by making him feel trapped. In my mind I am thinking he needs to know he can move away from the source of his fear. I reassure him with my lack of panic and my repetition of "easy boy". Luckily for me his flight was short lived. We circle back to the scary end of the arena and spend some time there. We ride by giving the short end a wide berth, but with each pass we come closer and closer until finally we can get back to work. We live to ride another day.