Storm sky.

[Jadie Jones]

Storm clouds roll over the top of the Blue Ridge mountains like a frieght train, driven and unapologetic. A gray horse in the lower field pricks his ears towards the dark army. He rears and paws at it, as if to beat it back. The first clap of thunder is no distant warning, but an immediate assault, turning a jump in the riding arena into a scattering of splinters and hardware. I silently ask my mother to forgive me, and take off for the lower pasture, determined to bring the horse and his steel-shod hooves in before he turns into a lightning rod. He sees me coming, his big body wheeling towards me, and then a light so hot it's edges burn lavendar erases everything in front of me, every fear and hope within me, and I'm soaring and falling and burning and freezing and free.

[Jadie Jones]

Thank you so much! @Bill Lapham - I am honored!

[Joey Delgado]

Very beautiful imagery. Storms, horses, farm girls--can't think of any topic more wild and free.

[Jadie Jones]

Thanks y'all!!

[Angela]

I've never imagined such a thing.  You make it come to life.

[Jadie Jones]

Thank you, Galen! I love a good storm. Something about the threat of close lightning inspires my creativity.

[Jadie Jones]

Oh my gosh!! That's horrible. Was she okay? This was something that *almost* happened to me. Storm came, I went to get the horse, and a bolt of lightning blew a jump in the riding ring to pieces. I left the horse. He was fine.

[Jeanette Cheezum]

a light so hot it's edges burn lavendar erases everything in front of me, every fear and hope within me, and I'm soaring and falling and burning and freezing and free.    I loved that last line. We camped on the beach once and a friend of mine has hit by lightning while in the tent. We watched paralyzed, as she ran around in circles screaming her husbands name.