Meditating Unicorn

15th May 2011 Sunday

We are walking along the canal tow path. The water is so clear in places you can see the lime green weed in waving clumps below the surface. The far banks are lined with yellow flag irises. We count eight teenage ducklings with their mother skittering in and out of the reeds.

We can see a white horse with creamy gold mane and tail in a field next to the path. It is standing so still my husband says it’s a statue. I say it looks like a unicorn.Then it twitches its ear. We approach slowly. It shifts it’s weight from one leg to the other. Its eyes are half closed. I wonder if it is in pain.

‘It’s maturing,’ says my husband. ‘I mean mediating’.

‘Do you mean meditating?’ I ask

‘Yes of course, meditating’.

We laugh and wonder what else the horse could be doing starting with ‘m’ - munching, mixing it’s metaphors, moonshining, marvellling.......

‘I could make a unicorn in clay,’ says my husband.

I hope he does.