The beauty about the sky is that it's always there, it never leaves this world to go somewhere better, somewhere hotter or where the sun is closer. The sky is always there to look up to in times of need or just when you need your spirits lifted. I always look up to the sky just when the evening draws on and there is one single star shining, not too bright but bright enough to make you think, to really make you think! To me, Frankie Reed, the sky is a reminder. That everything is beautiful, and sometimes simplicity is sweeter, calmer, kinder than anything else. You could look at a Rose or a Lilly all day and be amazed by the sheer brilliance of each individual petal but when you watch the TV it only takes so long before you get bored of it and have to move on to do something else.
I'm Frankie, I'm the kind of person, that if I had a choice to live in a huge modern flat in the middle of a city or a little cottage in the middle of nowhere with acres of land, well lets just say, the cottage would win hands down. Simple things inspire me and I could day dream for hours on end, watching a clock and not even notice the second hand ticking. I could lie in a field and watch the clouds as they roll on, minding their own business, doing whatever it is clouds do. The kind of girl that believes every story, every life is a fairytale and every fairytale has a happy ending, and every happy ending involves a prince and a white horse. Of course though, with every fairytale there's the witch, the evil stepmother, the crazy woman trying to steal the princess's heart. And what kind of story would this one be if it didn't have the witch, the evil stepmother, the crazy woman trying to steal the princess's heart? So here it is my story, my life, my fairytale.
I remember it like it was yesterday. It was around five o'clock and it was the morning after a storm, now I'm not saying I love storms, because believe me I don't but I would go through a storm every night if it meant the morning after would look so beautiful. The grass glistened with dew and a purple mist had settled along the ridge of the mountains. I live in a bungalow in the country and it's pretty quiet out here, there are a few cottages dotted around the place but, to be honest, it's pretty deserted out here. I'm not saying that's a bad thing though, not at all, in fact it's pretty fantastic, so peaceful and tranquil. Out of my window you can see fields and mountains for miles in every direction. The mist on the mountain made the waterfall go a lilac colour, put together with the brook bubbling silently to the lake, there was only one word to describe the scenery. Magical! As it was so early I decided to change into my jodhpurs and go out for an hour or so, on Lynx. Lynx is my dark bay, thoroughbred ex-racehorse stallion, he is only seven but fell on the track and never went back out there again. I wrote a note for my mum, grabbed my hat from under the stairs and headed for the door. As we live in the country my mum agreed, when we moved out here, to build a stable block and keep a couple of horses, we have a fair bit of land and an indoor ménage. Although the horses are allowed to roam through a few different fields as soon as I called Lynx's name and whistled he cantered to the gate as always. I tied him to some rope and brushed him over for about ten minutes with a dandy brush then combed his main. After he was completely spotless I went to the tack room, unlocked it and fetched Lynx's tack. When I returned to Lynx, although his mane had been shaken back to the way it naturally falls, he still looked handsome as ever. I hung the reins over Lynx's neck and slipped the bit into his mouth with ease and gently pulled the head piece over his ears. I placed the saddle onto his neck and slid it back into position, I pulled the girth through the martingale and did it up. I was ready to go. It was around half 5 by the time I left, the other great thing about riding this early, apart from the scenery, was how quiet it is, no tractors, no kids, no dog walkers. Just me, lynx and the birds. We walked for a bit, through miles and miles of fields, not a road in sight. We then began to trot, after about 15 minutes of trotting here, there and everywhere I saw a log, must have been bout two foot 6 in height and about a foot wide. Of course Lynx, being a racehorse, could pop that with his eyes closed but as there were no other logs in sight and I hadn't jumped him out on a hack for a while, and it seemed like a perfect opportunity. I cantered in what seemed like a circle a few times then turned him into the log. Being a race horse he was used to galloping full pelt into hedges taller than me, but I kept him collected (which is harder than it looks) headed straight for the jump, Lynx had found the perfect stride and we were headed beautifully into the log, and, as predicted, we jumped it as if it wasn't even there. I decided to let Lynx free up some of the energy that was balled up inside him, so when we came to a flat piece of land, I took the opportunity to let Lynx gallop flat out. I could feel his legs pounding the ground so heavily yet, it still felt like we were flying, galloping on nothing but air. The wind in my hair, the sound of galloping hooves in my ear, Lynx was just eating up the ground. All to suddenly the ground began to rise, it didn't seem like a problem until I remembered we were still galloping full pelt, I half halted and brought Lynx to a collected canter, then trot, then I slowed him to a walk. We reached the top of the hill in no time and halted right at the edge. I looked over and saw a lake, not huge, but bigger than your average pond, the sun beams glittered off the still water and gave the whole atmosphere a magical feeling. I realised I must have been galloping for longer than I imagined as I knew I had never been to this place before, although when I leaned over and checked under Lynx's girth, there was not a trace of sweat. I thought it weird but didn't question it, besides, what I saw next bewildered me so much, that I didn't even think about where I was or how I got there. From behind the rocks, next to the pond, I saw a bright light, the kind of light that if you look at it for too long you go blind. It was so fantastic that I almost fell backwards off Lynx but I managed to stay on, it was obvious that Lynx had noticed the light to as his hears were pricked as far forward as they would go, his head up in the air and he was dancing around like he was a yearling. I decided I had to know what this light was, although looking back, it wasn't really a decision, more of an impulse.