He called out to me from a shop in the souk in Casablanca.  This small brass horse, a descendant of Bucephalus,  the legendary war horse of Alexander the Great.

He had been all over the known world with his master, carried him safely through many battles and conquests.  The little brass horse had inherited a fierce desire to explore and wanted to see the New World.  So he called to me when I passed the stall.  He had a nice heft and fit nicely into my hand and I longed for him to come home with me.  And so began yet another journey.

He seems happy here.  But, I sometimes wonder, does he miss the deserts of his native land?

– with love for the journey.