The Roar of the Falls: My Journey with Kaya

Making sure Squirrel can hear me, I tell Kaya I’d like to work on some riding. Kaya smiles and points out that a young black horse with a white star shape on her forehead looks eager to work with us. Kaya loops a light rope halter around the horse’s head. I watch Kaya scratch under the horse’s jaw, so I reach out and scratch there, too, feeling the coarse hair beneath my fingers. The horse stretches her neck out and half-closes her eyes with pleasure. Kaya says the filly already knows we’re her friends now. There’s something familiar about the focused intensity in Kaya’s face as she gazes at the horse. That’s exactly how I feel when I work with my plants.

Kaya places a rope bit in the horse’s mouth and explains that we’ll work on mounting first. I take a step back and watch Kaya closely. Kaya runs forward a few quick steps, grasps the horse’s mane with both hands, throws her leg up, and bellies over her in one smooth motion. The horse snorts and dances sideways a bit, but Kaya soothes her and tries again. After about half a dozen mounts, she turns to me and asks if I’d like to try, since it’d be good for the filly to get used to different riders. Suddenly, I am nervous. When did the filly get so tall and broad? Kaya can’t know I’ve never done this before.

I take a running step, then stop short, my nerve failing me at the last second. Toe-ta has joined us. He steps up beside the horse’s head and explains that she’ll feel more secure if someone holds her steady at the same time.

I run forward the same way Kaya did, but without much conviction behind it. Instead of jumping cleanly onto the horse’s back, I collide hard with her side and slither to the ground in a heap. I hear Squirrel’s snicker somewhere behind me. My face flames with embarrassment. Toe-ta instructs him to go gather the wandering herd instead. Squirrel turns to go, but I catch him giving me one last chuckling look.

Toe-ta tells me to run with confidence. We are partners with the horse, he says. We love and care for them, and they love and care for us.

I run forward again, more powerfully this time, and leap just before I reach the filly. I reach for her mane and almost manage to scramble all the way up before I fall again, landing hard in the dust with a grunt. Toe-ta tells me to keep trying, his voice steady and patient. I shouldn’t give up.