Wildflower has been dreaming of riding a horse for as long as I can remember. Even as an infant, she would scurry up to the tv when I would watch repeats of Road To Avonlea on weekday mornings, and she’d tap on the screen excitedly as they’d gallop through the opening credits. Later, her love affair would develop, as an on screen romance only, as we snuggled together as a family, and watched Heartland, yes we’re hopeless CBC romantics, apparently. Lately, her horsie thoughts have migrated towards what her horse will look like (brown with a black mane and a white patch on her forehead, yes she’s a she), and then she thinks about what she’ll be wearing (red sparkles, like the girl at the plough match), and then she sighs longingly. Well after much begging, this happened…. Sure, it rained the entire time, but standing there with her while she waited for her turn, watching her decide whether her butterflies were nervous, excited, or both, I experienced that motherly moment, that realization that we’re moving onto a new stage. It’s a stage where she may need a gentle nudge to pursue something she’s built up to be extraordinary. And just as I had stepped into this role, taking a deep breath before jumping in….I looked down to find my moon child wearing a helmet, much too large to fit his head. “Me ride hohsie”. Lucky for him (and me), despite his wee self not having registered for the course, the lovely ladies were excited to see him up on Punch, the pony, so both kiddos had their first horseback riding experience together. The photos are washed out, as were we by the time we left, soaked to the bone, but our souls were contented, filled with the satisfaction that only a new experience can bring.