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I am happy. I am blessed. How wonderful is it, to go out to your back pasture in the warm summer twilight, and to whistle, loud, through your teeth like your dad taught you to do, and to wait… wait in the damp silent darkening green.  You hear them through your feet.  Then a flash of white, and three horses gallop thundering black and copper and dun out of the dark, out of the evening shadow of trees, pounding hooves, manes and tails flying. To watch as they canter elegantly toward you, and to see them stop, gently, inches from your shoulder, heads down, respectfully demure, warm breath, hoping for a carrot. This is bliss.