Veeder: On the slick back of a horse, it's always summer
There's something about the slick back of a horse, his soft muzzle and tangled mane, his predictably unpredictable spirit, the stomp of his hooves and the swish of his tail that defines summer for me.
And summer has arrived. I know it because the long hot days turn into lingering, golden evenings.
I know because I can see the fireflies dancing in the cool, dark spaces between the oaks.
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