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.
In times of grief, of shock and sorrow, it seems they always have a place.
Getty Images
So it was in Brazil today, when this team of gaucho honor guards made their way on horseback through a cemetery, riding toward the newly-dug graves of fallen members of their pampas tribe.