A Quiet Joy

This week's Spin is titled Creative Writing 101:

A Quiet Joy

A woman stands in the doorway of a log house, a steaming mug of tea in her hand. She surveys the scene as she does every morning, through fresh, happy eyes. The rolling meadows, still hung with mist, and their white plank fences are calming. The stout rough-cut barn evokes visions of dark security, the smell of horses, hay, and leather mingled with manure are forever tied with a sense of belonging, of home. As the woman ticks over her mental list of chores to do and horses to work, the gleam of a copper coat over rippling muscles catches her eye. He pretends to graze but, in truth, is tensed and ready for the excuse that will send him streaking across the field. He will boldly thrust his regal head upward, knowing his beauty and that the woman loves him all the more for it. Watching him, the woman feels the pull to be astride him, to be a partner to his freedom as only she can. She can no more deny herself this joy than could air. At this moment she is at total peace, filled with a quiet joy.