Berlin. Adenauer Platz. Sitting in a warm cafe, a chandelier hangs from the ceiling, the waiter lights the candle in the bronze candleholder. Outside, cold cold air, late afternoon sun hiding behind the buildings, incessant traffic on the large avenues, and Christmas trees for sale neatly aligned on the paved place.
I left Toril's place on Saturday. The fence for the new pasture was almost finished, but not quite; we were still waiting for the wire line to come in the post. In the last few days, Toril made us ride a little on one of the mares, who was pregnant and so sweet. For the first time in my life, even though I had had several riding lessons, I rode without bridle or saddle. It was so different, as if I had never ridden before. Toril talked about telling the horse where to go with the energy of the body, rather than the reins. She talked about establishing a relationship with the horse, first of all, before any riding, simply by walking with him for a few hours. Riding should be a relationship; the horse should be doing it for you because it likes you, and not because it is forced. It all sounded so simple, and so obvious - something that I always wished I would hear.
Now, in Berlin. Cars and buses and bicycles and people and restaurants and shops have replaced the trees, the pastures, the streams, the horses, the dogs, the cats. But how strange. I notice that I do not see them in the same way that I did before. This city life that was so foreign, so hard for me to understand before, now has a meaning. From having experienced the farm life for a few months, now I understand how farm could lead to city.
