This morning’s walk was more an amble than a trot. I was afraid it would be boring; it wasn’t. Thoughts flowed much as they do when I walk fast. But they were deeper, had pooled longer in the mind before bubbling to the surface.

When I was a little girl, I remember Mom explaining the five gaits of saddlebred horses. There’s the walk, trot and canter, the natural gaits, she said. But saddlebreds have two additional, special gaits — slow gait and rack.

At the Junior League Horse Show, which was held every summer at the Red Mile Trotting Track in Lexington, prim matrons with smooth blond chignons sat ramrod-straight in the saddle as their mounts pranced their way around the track. When it was time for the fifth and final gait, the announcer said, “Rack on.”

I’ll “rack on” another day. For me, today, it was slow gait.