Small World

Tonight I was reminded just how small certain circles can be. And no, I’m not talking about 20 meter circles either. I mean the kind of “circle” that makes you think there really is something to that whole 6 degrees of separation thing. The kind that forces you to exclaim “small world” or, as the Spanish say it “el mundo es un panuelo” (The world is but a handkerchief).

Tonight I rode a small Arabian cross by the name of Foolish Comet. The interesting thing is that I have met this horse before, more than 10 years ago.

There was a small barn close to my house when I was growing up and my best friend through elementary school and I used to bike down to the barn to visit her sister’s horses. Her sister owned two horses that she boarded at this barn and even though I grew up in the suburbs, this farm had the ability to keep horses grandfathered in to their land zoning and still keeps a few today. She had a young grey gelding aptly named Foolish Comet because he was the product of an under-the-fence breeding whoops and was actually born the day the Hale-Bopp Comet passed perihelion in 1997. I remember my friend’s sister took us on a trail ride one summer day through my neighborhood and down the trail near my house. I just thought it was the coolest thing that she owned and trained horses and I would often bike down to the barn myself just to watch the horses through the fence for a while.

When I came to ride at my current barn, I had no idea Comet was there. I remember walking down the barn aisle with the instructor and she was pointing out a few of the horses they use for lessons. I saw the name plate for Foolish Comet and it totally struck a chord. I told the instructor that I used to know a grey Arabian cross named Foolish Comet who was owned by my best friend’s sister. Once she heard the name her eyes lit up and she told me he is still owned by my friend’s sister who actually worked at the barn for many years as well. It was a totally small world moment. I know in this case it was partially the fact that horse owners in the Twin Cities surrounding area are already a closer knit group than some circles just because there aren’t that many. But still, a horse can be sold, moved, it can die young–so who would have ever imagined I would see that horse again. I instantly felt a small amount of deep connection with this barn and last night, when I rode Comet for the first time, I felt like sometimes these circles overlap for a greater purpose.

For now, I certainly am happy to follow this little path down memory lane wherever it may lead.

swl

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