Panajachel + Lake Atitlan + Antigua + Guatemala City. | January 2019

“I mounted her with ease, the muscle memory falling effortlessly back into place. I took the reins and adjusted my stirrups. Her smell began to radiate through the air - a mellow musk of oiled leather and sweat. We set off through town as the sun finally took hold of the day, the four-beat clack of metal horse shoes on pavement echoing down the streets. My body settled into its normal rhythm. I'd spent years perfecting the perfect seat; years training my legs in the unnatural angle of forward, back and down. My core absorbed each bounce in her spine, I leaned into each movement as her hindquarters curled beneath her. Long and tall and perfectly centered - that almost-forgotten confidence came back to me. My body was home, and I knew there was almost nothing she could do to make me falter. So we became one. We jogged through coffee plantations and dodged low hanging branches; the sour, pungent smell of raw coffee shells in the air. We pranced around street dogs, their bravery challenged with every step. We galloped on straightaways, both our hair flowing behind us; her Criollo confirmation smooth and steady beneath the saddle, her crest arched in a balanced frame that surprised even me - a gift passed down through thousands of years of bloodlines from Spain.”

-Tess Thomas, The Laughing Diet; “Regresando”