Your First Fall.
My first fall was off of a Shetland pony. I wish I could remember his name. My friend Tina, in Kansas, and I were trying to break this pony to be ridden. He actually belonged to my step brother, who had no interest in doing anything with him. I do remember that he was a very pretty little thing, Chocolate brown, not as round as the rest of the ponies there, but then he was quite a bit younger too.
First we got him to take a bit, then we put things on his back and lead him around. Eventually I was brave enough to climb up there. I was about 10 at the time, maybe 11. I can say that this really was not a fall, as he clearly bucked me right off. But I got back on and we tried again. I don't even recall how long we were there, in KS, but I know that by time my family headed home from our summer vacation, we were riding him and the other ponies all over the place.
I remember once we were riding out and about. We went through some trees and came out in a meadow that had burned once, so there were sort of silver blades of grass mixed in with the new green. It looked like there was a mist throughout the meadow. Gosh it was pretty!
Sadly I only got to go back there a few times, and then Tina wrote me a few years later and told me that the little brown pony died of sleeping sickness.