Yesterday I stopped on the side of the road.
Down the street from our house there is a field of horses. All kinds of horse breeds and colors. It’s a favorite landmark as we head to town and causes a lot of chatter well after the 10 seconds it takes to pass the field.
The kids have each picked out the favorite horse and have them named so they can talk about them as they point out what their horse is doing. Even I have a favorite buckskin I look for as we pass.
Most of the time they are just doing what horses do; eat. But sometimes we get the treat of seeing them run across the field as we drive by.
Yesterday we were coming home from our typical errands and I happened to notice Gracie craning her neck in the rear-mirror to get a longer glance at the horses as we drove past.
It hit me in that funny way that truth has the tendency to do; I am the one driving and why not pull off the road?
We pulled over on the overgrown grassy side of the road and I unloaded the two girls.
Three of the horses ran to the fence, snorting out their noses, stomping their feet and tossing their manes. No doubt looking for treats we did not have.
Their eyes got huge and laughter erupted as one of the horses took to rolling in the dirt with feet flailing in the air. Then when he stood up and shook all the dust off, like a dog shaking off a wet coat, the laughter became contagious and Gracie started clapping with glee.
We had things in the car that needed to be refrigerated, so we stayed for a bit and ran home to unload before picking up the other kids at school.
The talk of the horse visit lasted well into the ending of the day and quickly gained the status of childhood legend as the 3 horses turned into 20 and one of them was white; possibly a unicorn in disguise.
…and frankly…I need to remember that memories are made in the moments that we decide to pull over.