Project Lipizzaner: Story

Project Lipizzaner: Story

A young child, about the age of five years, clung to her mother’s arm as if thinking that if she loosened her grip in the slightest she would be forever lost in the swarm of tourists in the Spanish Riding School’s hallway. Her mother wrapped an arm around her cargo and guided her through a doorway. The child’s eyes grew to the size of the moon as she gazed into the school’s arena. They maneuvered their way together down the concrete stairs and closer to the arena where horses cantered past and trainers called commands to their stallions. As the pair reached the bottom ledge, her petite, young fingers grasped the railing to draw herself closer to the breath-taking white stallions. A young horse, just beginning being trained for basic dressage, trotted past her absorbing eyes while two trainers practiced with a ten year-old veteran in the highest level, Haute E’cole, in the center of the dirt padded arena. Two horses warming up together thundered past as the mother took the child’s shoulders and guided her to a seat not far from the railing.

Together they watched throughout the morning as young horses began their careers in the Spanish Riding School, just learning how to trot properly under saddle. Veteran stallions worked through their paces, going through drills with other horses and by themselves, under a rider and on tracer lines. A couple older horses preformed the airs above ground, the three military-based maneuvers that made the Lipizzaners famous. The child’s eyes glistened with awe and amazement as she gazed upon the dazzling white horses as they pranced around the ring for yet another audience they held captive. Her mouth was slightly gaping the entire morning, and it seemed as if the girl never blinked. These horses were something different from anything she had ever imagined. She had never dreamt of horses that could surpass all the stars in beauty, and she certainly couldn’t think that these elegantly polished horses that moved so fluidly could ever have killed soldiers on a murderous battle field.

As the morning training drew to a close, one last stallion was brought out to practice. His name was announced as “Bellamira”. The stallion circled the arena first walking, then he trotted fluidly past his spectators. He spiraled down the arena in gorgeous circles, crossing the arena as nicely as any Olympian dressage champion. His rider brought him to a halt in the center of the arena and the room froze in a silent wonder. The horse rose back on his hind legs, low to the ground, and the people could see his muscles bulging in his hindquarters to hold this precarious position. Suddenly, he rose up to full height, jumping up, still balanced on his hind legs, and leapt across the dirt, kicking out vicious with his deadly back hooves yet managing to remain graceful that would captivate even someone standing behind. As he landed, he cantered down the center line and out of the arena.

The mother took her girl’s hand and led the way back out of the School. As they left, the child stared behind her, catching one last glimpse of her beautiful white Bellamira.