I am from spending all my summer days at the place that has practically become my home, the barn

and from watching my dog as he runs around the trails at the barn as my dad takes him for a hike 

 I am from the shed next to the arena where all the counselors congregate every day for lunch, and where we keep all the delicious junk food that we gorge on every day during summer, usually a kind of creamy chocolate, or a perfectly shaped chip

and from the adrenaline that comes of racing my trainer up the steep, long, and pure joy summoning galloping hill atop Birdie, who does her best to out-run Chapa, and almost always failing by just a hair

I am from waiting out the rare, cold, hard rain with my horseback riding trainer as we sit in one of her horse’s stalls, the only place at the barn with decent reception 

and from soaring over breathtaking oxers, whos height can always astound me as I fly over them on the back of an equine

I am from silently viewing from Birdie’s stall as people walk up and down the trails on warm sunlit summer days 

and from spending as much time as I can helping my friend with her barn chores on Sunday afternoons after my lessons, mostly helping her feed all the horses their disgusting looking grass grain, and sometimes helping her muck out stalls 

I am from pushing the wheelbarrow back up the hill for the same friend, so her back doesn’t get any worse than it already is

and from the joy of beating my friend in a fair tack-up race on our Sunday lessons

I am from the scent of extraordinarily hot horseshoes be put into water when the farrier does the horses’ hooves, producing some strange smelling smoke, the kind of smell you simultaneously hate and love

and from exploring the huge and treacherous ditch on the trail next to where the campers eat lunch with my friends, and trying to help my friend find her AirPod after it fell out while we were exploring it, and it still being lost to this very day

I am from hearing my friends jokingly say “I love you” after one of us brings food to the barn, usually something filled with sugar, and sometimes a type of spicy chip

and from bringing my uneaten apple cores to the barn to feed an enthusiastic Birdie after our ride

I am from talking with all my barn friends as we muck out Zin’s relatively clean stall

and from talking to my trainer about horses I want to try, as well as the horses I’ve already tried

I am from my heart sinking slightly as my trainer tells me to drop my stirrups and pick up the canter, the equivalent of an extreme workout

and from laughing joyfully as I push people in the wheelbarrow, all while people on the trails look at us with a look of amusement and confusion

I am from trying to wrap myself up in the warm, run-down, cozy wool blankets from the shed before someone else does 

and from being jokingly bribed into doing anything from tacking up for a someone to telling a secret for the price of anything sweet, usually some sort of chocolate dessert

I am from the game of running in tight circles in the shed and almost falling into old support beams

and from blasting Journey in the car with my mom as we dine on delectable Cheetos and scrumptious chocolate covered pretzels on the way back home from the barn.

This is where I’m from.