It happened last night when I went and had a nice sink a few hours before sundown. The clay was that perfect Peanut Butter consistancy, nice and thick, but still easy to move in. I'm chest deep, just relaxing in the grip of the earth, a little drowsy....
*clopclopclopclop.....snort*
That was a horse. I think to myself. Then my brain comes out of hibernate. Wait....a horse.....people ride hor--
"Oh my! Are you ok honey? I got a rope here!"
My head snaps around. Standing on the bank of the settling pond is indeed a horse. The woman in the saddle looks to be roughly late 40's / early 50's, dressed in cutoff jeans and a tshirt. The look on her face is 1 part concerned and 2 parts mildly amused.
Don't panic don't panic don't panic
"Oh no ma'm I'm fine! Just.....you know.....chillin."
She laughs. "Well it's a good day for it! Just don't get in too deep that looks like quicksand!"
I snorted back a laugh. Oh my dear lady if you only knew. "I think I got it under control!"
She looks down at the pile of my clothes on the bank and gives me a wink. "Yea you look like you do."
OMG she knows I'm nekkid. And with that our encounter was over. I waited till the sound of hooves had faded off into the distance and then got the hell out of Dodge. The adrenaline high made the hike back to where I stashed the bike seem effortless.
I pull out onto the main road.....and guess who's there? Yup. Same lady is putting her horse back into her trailer. At this point I breath the first real sigh of relief, her truck has Maine plates. She's not local, must have just stopped to give Silver some exercise. I took off in the opposite direction and took the long way home wondering the whole time about how many people she'd entertain with her tale of horse walkies and naked mud dudes.
It could be saying, 'Be ready for the next horse lady that happens along and have a catchy invitation handy.' 