It's of a friend and her horse, Flea Bag, as they round a barrel.
There's such a oneness in horse and rider, horse and friend, that the barrel had not a chance in this world -- they make that barrel about as inconsequential as spit.
Look at the lines! The speed! The trust!
I could do without the hat, would rather see girly curls in the breeze, but I'm told that, like the wind in those parts, it's something I just don't understand. Something to do with "culture." Harrumph.
|Please do not reproduce this photo.|
If you do, Flea Bag will run you down.
On Barrel Racing
© 2013 L. Ryan