Memories of the rider I was decades ago, galloping bareback, seat balanced in the bliss of ignorance. Thirty years later, there's a war between my mind's love of flying and my body's memory of falling. I just want to ride again without fear.
Saturday, April 2, 2011
...belong exclusively to fat white ponies, I suspect.
This gentleman powerfully deployed classic X-ray vision. Indeed, I felt his laser-like scrutiny all the while I fumbled with my camera.