And we did, though her mom was very tired from a late night out dancing and her dad knew he should probably stay home and tend the mesquite instead. What with all the new media in our lives, staying on the same page even when we are together can prove quite a challenge. Luckily, having something as interesting to watch as horse jumping helps to keep distractions at bay. The outing was definitely a success, as reflected both in Skylar's good mood and the fact that her mom was able to catch up on her sleep afterwards with a rare afternoon nap. Not to mention that I was finally able to put my telephoto through its paces. It didn't hurt that Kim stopped to buy a fetching "bad guy" hat on the way to the event:
Even in the context of a proper equestrian event, with English saddles and classic riding outfits, the immensity of the landscape will not be denied. And that's what makes subtle exchanges like this one between Kim and Skylar seem all the more precious, because they are taking place amid a vastness that threatens to render human-scaled existence inconsequential:
When we watch horse and rider at the apex of a staggeringly high jump, we are witnessing a state of exception painstakingly curated by the unglamorous labors of the day-to-day. I actually think that there's a lesson in this that goes beyond horses and the culture of sport more generally. Too much in our world inclines us to skip the process and take a shortcut to the finished product. But deep pleasure comes from remembering all the energy expended along the way, not just the burst at the end of the journey.