What does summer smell like?
It’s not so much the smell of the leather as the smell of the horses in the stable. The straw, the saddle, the brushes , the hoof scraper, the halter. Mice and rats making their way back to their hiding places. Mostly along the stable wall.
And it smells of cigarette smoke, hoof grease, sweat and fresh cold water from the horse trough. But also from the washing area. Where the horses are hosed down when it is particularly hot in summer.
Outside on the way from the stable to the arena and the gallop track. Soil in different consistencies. You can hear a horse limping better on the dirt track.
He is tougher. And small stones lie along the way. The grazed paddock along the country lane is dry, hard and dusty. In spring there were still grass stains.
The soft riding arena sand in the arena. The snorting of the horse now drowns out his barely audible steps. The stomach gurgles. The hooves sink into the light brown sand. As if someone had cleaned the earth of stones with a sieve. If you fall here, you fall softly. You also have to learn to fall.
Dust swirls up. Other riders stop. Get off their horse. Trying to hold my own horse with one hand and catch my lunging bay stallion with the other. But as soon as the horse gets close enough to the dangling reins, it swerves again. The long black mane flutters. The stallion runs back towards the stable. The rhythm of galloping hooves becomes quieter and quieter.
On the way on foot towards the stable, a tractor comes towards me. I spot the brown stallion in the last green patch. His head stuck in the grass. The drooping mane hides the white star on his forehead. His saddle has slipped.
I sit down with him on the grass. My pants are already dirty from the fall anyway. My riding boots are covered with light brown sand.
