Many years ago, in a sleepy little town, at about this approximate time on a warm Autumn morning, a teenage girl rode a bay mare toward the showground gate. Her friend, upon seeing her, called out to them, and cantered up from the opposite direction, riding a bay gelding. The girls chatted as they rode the horses through the gate and towards the group that had gathered under the trees. It was sign up day for the local pony club, and the club’s administrative members milled around, busily handing out paperwork and accepting membership fees, while the riders saddled and warmed up around the outside of the arena. Parents trudged around four-wheel drives and horse floats, calling after their children and chatting amongst themselves.

Seeing the two girls approach, the pony club’s treasurer approached them, papers in hand. The girls, both being long-term members of the club, greeted the treasurer warmly, and accepted the papers on horseback, knowing that holding them wasn’t going to be an issue with the mounts they rode that day.
“Mum’s got my fees, here she comes now,” the younger girl, mounted on the gelding, cheerfully told the treasurer, gesturing to two people coming through the gate.
“Mine are in my backpack, but I’m gonna have to jump off to fill this out” the other girl lamented as she swung her small purple backpack around onto the pommel of her saddle, rummaging through the contents one-handedly, her other hand clutching the mare’s reins.
“That’s what he’s for!” laughed the girl as she pointed towards where her mother approached on foot, at a tall young man walking at her side.
“That’s what big brothers are for, right bro?” she called to him as they walked up towards the two horses. The young man laughed, and reached up to stroke the gelding’s face, running his fingers over the large star on the centre of his forehead.
“Come here and turn around so I can write on your back!” demanded his sister laughingly. The older girl, after passing her friend a pen from her backpack, re-zipped it and swung it back on, ready to dismount to fill out her own paperwork.
“Don’t get off, you can use him too” proclaimed her friend just as she’d slid her feet from her stirrups. The man laughed, his blue eyes betraying the slightest hint of hesitation. He shrugged slightly, seemingly fine with the prospect of being written on by a girl he’d never met before, and walked into the space between the two horses, his moment of hesitation passing as quickly as it had appeared. The older girl laughed and took the pen back from her friend, finding the whole situation rather convenient, but not in the least awkward. With her outgoing friend this sort of thing was the norm. Besides, he was just her friend’s brother, and while he was kind of cute, she already had a boyfriend. She leaned down and filled out the paperwork quickly, trying to write gently, and thanked her ‘desk’ as she pulled her backpack back around onto her lap to put her pen away.

“I suppose I should probably introduce you, huh?” the younger girl said jokingy.
“Storm, this is my brother Christian.”

To this day, the man claims he knew that day that the girl on the bay mare would be his someday. Almost a year later, on the 4th February, 2008, the girl went out on a date with him, and as they say, the rest is history. Today marks ten years since that first date, almost eleven since that very first fateful meeting when a girl on a horse used a guy as a writing surface, and their fates intertwined forever.