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Autumn, horses, owls, goodness
Nov. 15th, 2009 08:04 pmOne of these days, I should write about my dancing project (Initially, this was learning to dance ballroom, which mutated to include learning swing and also apparently now Viennese waltz; I opened Pandora's box with this one). Suffice to say that there was a swing dance last night. There was an excellent live band (Stompy Jones; swing bands have the cutest names), this was actually in Sonoma County, I was there in pleasant company and I actually managed to not make a fool of myself or look like a complete and utter rookie on the dance floor. Um, hopefully. I am by no means good...there were a few really good dancers there and I am not one of them...but I think I have achieved adequate beginner status. Wait, I can dance now? Really? How did that happen?
I spent this afternoon with the horses, which is really one of the finest ways I could hope to spend a clear and glorious November day. Bey got her Autumn trim, and I realized again how fulfilling it is to know how to trim my own horses. I've had this mare for 21 years, and post-farriery it seemed like I'd never actually looked at her in all of these subtle and really important little ways. She toes in a bit on her fore, more strongly at the left, and like many horses her hooves are not perfectly matched. They are good, strong feet, the soles thick and healthy from a lifetime barefoot, nicely hydrated from the moist ground.
This skill also means I don't have to watch any more farriers become increasingly murderous-looking as they realize how much they hate trimming my horse. It just means I have to do it. At least Bey is more obedient for me than she is for anyone else, right?
After Bey was loved on, trimmed, sworn at creatively and ruefully loved on some more with a promise to work on those back hooves a little more in the next few days, I worked with Equinox. He let me catch him with relative ease, and was leading obediently and almost perfectly around the arena with only the halter (you teach a baby to lead with another rope looped around his butt) less than 45 minutes later. This, you will recall, is the baby who only had a halter on him for the first time last Sunday. Better yet, when I was mucking his stall after the training session, he came up and hung out next to me, sniffing and requesting skritches. I am relieved and also touched...the little guy is starting to show an adorable personality. It's a bit sobering to consider that, assuming all goes well, he is going to be my companion for the next 21 years and then some...I have good reason to want the baby started well. I love this small horse quite vividly.
I didn't get to Dancer until the evening. I trimmed him as the sky faded on this short near-solstice day (with no cursing; Dancer almost acts like he likes his feet done) and then rode out into the vineyard at dusk. He's a youngster, and I had never taken him out so late, but he was mellow; you have to love Appaloosas. It was wonderful to listen to the birds calling right at dark, to enjoy the light quality of the sky as the first stars came out, and not have to worry too much about my horse killing me. Dancer got extra grain.
As I was looking all around for interesting wildlife (see it before horse does!) a suspiciously owl-shaped bunch of leaves in an almost bare maple tree turned its head clear around to regard me gravely. I have never been so close to a wild owl other than brief flyovers, but this one seemed unconcerned about some lady on a horse looking all starstruck. Possibly a great horned; this was a large bird and had big ear tufts. I was near enough that I could see the last of the sun touching the top crescent of her enormous eyes and flashing copper.
I feel suspended in a sea of blessings. If October is releasing and letting go, perhaps then in November there is room for things that are tender, very new, and possibly wonderful, and for rediscovering what has not been lost.
I spent this afternoon with the horses, which is really one of the finest ways I could hope to spend a clear and glorious November day. Bey got her Autumn trim, and I realized again how fulfilling it is to know how to trim my own horses. I've had this mare for 21 years, and post-farriery it seemed like I'd never actually looked at her in all of these subtle and really important little ways. She toes in a bit on her fore, more strongly at the left, and like many horses her hooves are not perfectly matched. They are good, strong feet, the soles thick and healthy from a lifetime barefoot, nicely hydrated from the moist ground.
This skill also means I don't have to watch any more farriers become increasingly murderous-looking as they realize how much they hate trimming my horse. It just means I have to do it. At least Bey is more obedient for me than she is for anyone else, right?
After Bey was loved on, trimmed, sworn at creatively and ruefully loved on some more with a promise to work on those back hooves a little more in the next few days, I worked with Equinox. He let me catch him with relative ease, and was leading obediently and almost perfectly around the arena with only the halter (you teach a baby to lead with another rope looped around his butt) less than 45 minutes later. This, you will recall, is the baby who only had a halter on him for the first time last Sunday. Better yet, when I was mucking his stall after the training session, he came up and hung out next to me, sniffing and requesting skritches. I am relieved and also touched...the little guy is starting to show an adorable personality. It's a bit sobering to consider that, assuming all goes well, he is going to be my companion for the next 21 years and then some...I have good reason to want the baby started well. I love this small horse quite vividly.
I didn't get to Dancer until the evening. I trimmed him as the sky faded on this short near-solstice day (with no cursing; Dancer almost acts like he likes his feet done) and then rode out into the vineyard at dusk. He's a youngster, and I had never taken him out so late, but he was mellow; you have to love Appaloosas. It was wonderful to listen to the birds calling right at dark, to enjoy the light quality of the sky as the first stars came out, and not have to worry too much about my horse killing me. Dancer got extra grain.
As I was looking all around for interesting wildlife (see it before horse does!) a suspiciously owl-shaped bunch of leaves in an almost bare maple tree turned its head clear around to regard me gravely. I have never been so close to a wild owl other than brief flyovers, but this one seemed unconcerned about some lady on a horse looking all starstruck. Possibly a great horned; this was a large bird and had big ear tufts. I was near enough that I could see the last of the sun touching the top crescent of her enormous eyes and flashing copper.
I feel suspended in a sea of blessings. If October is releasing and letting go, perhaps then in November there is room for things that are tender, very new, and possibly wonderful, and for rediscovering what has not been lost.
