The Horses of the Wash

On the fourth day, Polly heard thunder. But the sky was blue. She looked down. Horses were running on the sand.

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Polly flew next to a young brown horse. Where are you going, she asked. Nowhere, said the horse. We just run here. Horses have lived in this canyon for a long time.

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The sand was soft and flat. It was perfect for running. The sound hit one wall and came back off the other wall. Twenty horses sounded like two hundred.

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Then the horses stopped. A small stream ran through the sand. They drank the water. Polly sat next to them and said nothing.

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