When you become a role or an archetype instead of simply a person, you become simultaneously both more and less than an ordinary person. More, because you have some special skill, some talent that you’re openly and actively sharing with other people without any expectation of reciprocation. Less, because not everyone necessarily sees the nobility in that simple selfless act of giving. People sneer, people laugh, people make comments of all different sorts. One of my favorite bloggers--Tim Boucher, Why is Juggling Such a Big Deal?

I am riding my neighbor's magnificent Andalusian stallion down the Pojoaque creek on a Saturday afternoon. I've never ridden a stallion before, but Caprichoso (yes, our Caprichosa's sire), is the most docile and the most fiery horse I've ever known.

He simply refuses to walk.

Instead, the Andalusian stallion dances. No. He prances. Caprichoso's neck is so arched I can no longer see the tips of the stallion's ears. Just wave after wave of snow white mane cascading over rippling neck muscles. Frankly, I feel under dressed--in my Wranglers and my worn-out riding boots with a bandana tied around my head--for sitting astride Pegasus on a six-mile, barely earthbound waltz to the Rio Grande.

I am not prepared for the effect we have on the hikers, the four-wheelers, the dog walkers, the waders, the mountain cyclists, and the other horseback riders, whom we pass along the swath of sand.

They stop and stare at us as if the stallion has wings and will take flight. As if there are rings on my fingers and bells on my toes. As if we've just risen from the dark waters of Pojoaque Creek. As if we are the cosmic forces of primordial chaos. As if we seek The One Ring. As if we can lead these mere, gaping mortals to their inner powers of divinity. As if we've just ridden up from Atlantis, where blue jeans and cowboy boots are de rigueur, although somehow Plato managed to leave that part out.

As if we are born of sun and rain cloud.

Caprichoso munches his apple and his carrot after our ride. Closes his eyes and sighs when I give his back a good scratching and swat a fly that's after him.

Then I head for home to make dinner. Epona no more.