This was a common sight. Erik and I would visit the horses at Brookwood Stables every day, and bring them carrots. I was scared of their whinnies. I enjoyed the smell of the stables and the hay the horses slept on. Near the stable was Trout Creek, a small trickle that ran through the woods. In the winter it would ice over and you could walk on it. I remember one time I walked on the ice, following its meander past trees and branches that whipped at my face. In some spots I could see the the fish under the clearer areas of ice. Looking back, I didn't spend much time really exploring the area I lived in, and maybe I missed out. Maybe we should have thrown less footballs and taken more walks. Maybe we should have thrown less snowballs and put on a pair of ice skates once in a while.
I'm just thinking.
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