A horse show at Stanford’s red barn yesterday, reminding me of my childhood in Santa Fe and horse shows there. I love to watch the jumping, like Pegasus in flight, already halfway to becoming constellation.
For some reason I love gray horses above all—though gray is not a color in and of itself, but a process, the silvering in aging of a darker coat. I love the dappling, the way I love patina on a European wall, the whorls in weathered wood.
I’m also intrigued by this book by Hope Larson named Gray Horses.
image: image: Gray Horse in Field, Fir0002/Flagstaffotos
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