Blessed with a dry day, I took Lance out for a Christmas Eve ride. We warmed up in the arena, then went down the gravel lane. I thought about Kristy and her two horses, about how unpredictable life is. I look forward to heaven, but feel the loss here and now nonetheless.
“So you must match time's swiftness with your speed in using it, and you must drink quickly as though from a rapid stream that will not always flow.”
—Seneca, On the Shortness of Life