King of the Wind
I first read about the Barb Horse and Morocco when I was about 8 or 9 years old. I loved to read then, as I still do today, and I checked out Marguerite Henry’s book King of the Wind from the library. I can still remember being fascinated by the world created by the author.
Here is that world come alive. I was at a religious festival in Morocco’s High Atlas Mountains. Horse owners had tacked up their animals and brought them to the riverside where the festival was held. People would mount the horse and have their photo taken. Women especially wanted to sit in the saddle even though they were wearing their abayas or haiks as the Moroccans call them. Women are horse lovers the world over. It’s innate.
My guide told the man that I was a rider and I was allowed to take the horse for a short ride. He was agile over the rocky river bed and banks. Also, he responded to a light touch on the bit and leg and didn’t shy even though someone driving past blew his horn. I am always amazed at how well some people can train their horses. He was a credit to the Kings of the Wind.