
It was so windy. I was preparing to plant something, pink flowers I think, but didn't recognize where I was. I did so as I would right now, pregnant, in real life.... only scored the ground with a garden fork where I wanted the hole dug, but not doing the digging myself. Waiting for someone else to do it. The poked circle in the earth was next to something, I wasn't sure at first. I heard a whinny from a horse. Looked up on the horizon to see a small but somewhat threatening Palomino mare staring at me from far away. Her head low, but eyes fixed on me. She was extra furry, which indicated her youth. She charged at me, nearly missing as I ducked to one side. She charged, but I wasn't entirely afraid. I still felt the need to get out of her way each time. Over and over from all angles she came, one attempt after another. I thought to get something between myself and her and saw a nearby sapling. It hardly provided the barricade necessary to keep her from hurting me should she actually trample me the next time, but maybe she would hesitate if the branches distracted her. I cried for help to my husband. The desperate kind of cry that you can't make in a dream. No sound flying from your chords. Just breath. Pain in your throat from the struggle.
The fear of not being able to make a sound becoming larger than the fear that started you trying.
He woke me up with a rub on the leg and I immediately sat up and said with a fright a mare was charging me, thinking how much she wanted me away from where I was. Relentless in her pursuit. He laughed a little and said he heard me trying to get something out in my sleep. Once he confirmed my attempts for help I remembered that I was planting the flowers next to a grave.
Over coffee, I thought of the only horse that I have ever known, Sadie, my mom's child-hood Quarter Horse. She was lovely.
I dashed (as much as I am able in my state) through the rain to the car headed for the OB office. Slow enough to still take notice of the beautiful rows of pink dianthus that are shooting like fireworks in the flower beds after last nights cool, dark rainfall. As I backed out of the drive, I hit the breaks when I saw in the rear view mirror the sapling that my parents gave to me a few weeks ago from there own Japanese Maple. Potted and waiting to take root in my beds. Hello young, brave tree.
And I heard her heartbeat today. Strong, charging. Not unike a mare. Intent to keep my heart where it needs to be.



















