December 12, 2011
Last night I dreamed of horses, one of those dreams in which every detail is lively and you wake with a kind of sadness, wanting to be there again. It was summer and the horses were sweaty, a smell I’ve always loved. I felt one nudge my back and I reached around to touch its velvety face. When I woke, I remembered the horse I rode at the Quilchena Ranch, Twister, and how when I thanked him for a great ride, he pushed his face against my chest.
And when I woke, I also realized that the dream must have been a result of watching Werner Herzog’s wonderful Cave of Forgotten Dreams on dvd (no 3D glasses) last evening. I found the images of horses particularly beautiful. They have a freshness and immediacy that belies their age: 30,000 + years old.