Donna Snyder-Smith
Bio
"Aged." 35 year journalist + 3 books published by Wiley. Live on the NW coast. Love horses, some cats and a few people. Married, once, one daughter. The term average seldom fits me or any of my life. Love writing or reading a good story.
Stories (8/0)
Transformation
The stifling summer heat made my brother's suggestion of exploring the forest irresistible. A carpet of needles and rotting leaves beneath our feet, we threaded our way through pine, maple, and sourwood trees as some long-forgotten instinct drew us toward a stream teeming with frogs, snakes, crawdads, and freshwater eels. Walking along the banks of the shallow creek following its languidly moving current we came to the mouth of a narrow canyon. Here Mother Nature had brought individually insignificant drops of rain together using their collective power to carve a pathway through a slab of stone. Periodic flood waters paying homage to her power left gifts of debris lodged against the sides of the miniature gorge over the years where they became a permanent subtext to human extravagance.
By Donna Snyder-Smith2 years ago in Families
Transformation
910 Transformation Hope of escaping the stifling heat of our first Virginia summer sent my brother and me deep into a pine forest just across the street from our new home. Hidden in the interior we found a creek inhabited by frogs, snakes, freshwater eels, and crawdads. Following the languidly moving water along the stream bed for a quarter of a mile, we arrived at a miniature canyon. Flowing into the narrow mouth of the canyon caused the water to move faster. Tumbling and splashing it filled shallow hollows in the rocks along the sides of the shallow canyon. Trapped in these pools, the water transformed from frenetic to calm in the blink of an eye as though under a magic spell. A rusted saw blade half-buried in silt sent the water leaping into the air as though it were alive and excited about the journey it was on. As we explored, a cloud burst let go a torrent of warm summer rain. While my brother scurried for cover, I became entranced with catching the raindrops dripping from my eyelashes with my tongue. The short-lived storm passed quickly and we got back to exploring.
By Donna Snyder-Smith3 years ago in Humans
Measurable Suffering
Measurable Suffering
By Donna Snyder-Smith3 years ago in Petlife
Control
CONTROL The old gelding stands, legs spread as though at any moment gravity might win an eternal battle begun the moment a foal slips from the womb and, before its coat is even dry, unfolds its stilt-like legs to stand. A sound like wind through dried grass catches the horse's attention. Its ears swivel and the animal moves to the boy. The youth's scrawny arms strain as he places a heavy collar about the horse's neck. Hanging on one ear momentarily, the collar appears as a lopsided crown. A suitable symbol of the horse's servitude.
By Donna Snyder-Smith3 years ago in Humans
Land Of The Blind
Henry entered the main building at Churchill Downs. His presence at the track felt odd. He couldn't remember placing a bet in his entire life. Certainly not on something as unknowable as which thoroughbred might outrun others of its kind on any given day. He appreciated the magnificent beasts with their long, terribly slender legs and muscular bodies, but the only reason Henry was at Churchill Downs on the day the most famous horse race in America was being run, was because his uncle had come to this very place to attend this event for the last seven years of his life.
By Donna Snyder-Smith3 years ago in Criminal
