Morning and Moving into a New Era

 

This Thanksgiving has been the best I remember since 2017. It’s been simple and very sweet, pure and without any tension. I am so very grateful for my family.

This morning I woke up feeling like a new era is here for us. Bright blue sky, deeply rooted trees, love, peace. 

We’re moving closer to the omen days that begin the new year and I am so ready for them. I hope everyone is feeling hope and a sense of the new today. 

Thanksgiving 2024

 

Grateful this year for the very late autumn colors, my husband, my children, and my grandchildren, a Thanksgiving together with all of them and our dogs, cats, and equines on November Hill. My place, my home, my anchor in this difficult year. 

May we all move safely forward to the winter solstice and beyond. 

Sweet Bay

 

My husband took this aerial photo of our Sweet Bay Bald this weekend and I immediately see the figure of a horse, which made me think, wow, we can mow the walking path in the shape of Keil Bay! 

Perfect time of year to be thinking about it, since it will get mowed completely in early spring and then as the spring natives come in, we can shift the new walking path to any shape we want to. 

Something to think about through this coming season. 

The Brave and Happy Life (a reposting from 2009)

 

It’s definitely autumn on November Hill! 

The old blog post I’m sharing below got a lot of hits yesterday for some reason and I when I went back to re-read it, was charmed by my old routine with our herd of six. I remember so well the Hanoverian chorus during feeding time, which involved Keil Bay and Salina whinnying back and forth across the barn aisle, Little Man’s addition to this music, and Cody scraping his teeth along the stall wall, all while the donkeys made squeaky hinge sounds. 

Somewhere I have a video/audio recording of this symphony and I need to find it. 

It’s quieter now in the barn, but Little Man, Cody, Rafer Johnson, and Redford still love the barnyard and hanging out during chores. Yesterday they were all out there while we trimmed hooves and all visited Keil Bay and Salina’s graves for a bit. 

Brave and happy life takes on new meanings now, but here’s the old post that made me smile when I read it this morning:

the brave and happy life

Happiness comes more from loving than being loved; and often when our affection seems wounded it is only our vanity bleeding. To love, and to be hurt often, and to love again -- this is the brave and happy life.

-J.E. Buchrose

The phrase "brave and happy life" sticks with me. I'm not sure what I have to say about it here, but it sounds like the kind of life I'd like to live.

This morning after equine breakfasts I put Salina, Rafer Johnson, and Redford into their stall and paddock area so I could have the barn aisle free for chores. It was a cool morning, but I'm still turning on the fans out of habit and I like having them on when I muck.

I've developed a routine of cleaning out Salina's stall first, while they're all eating (she eats in the middle stall, which I think of as the donkeys' stall, and the donkeys eat in the barn aisle) so that when she and the donkeys are done they can move into the clean stall with the paddock and I can have the barn aisle free to do the rest of my chores.

Usually I muck, clean out the hay manger, de-web with a damp broom, and then serve hay. 

After I move Salina and the donkeys over, I shift to the opposite side of the barn and start with whichever of the geldings finish first. As they finish up, I let them into their paddock and move on with the stalls. 

Cody generally gets moved out of his stall during the summer days so I try to get him set up first, with his stall door closed so he can lie down for a nap and munch his hay without needing to pay attention to his back door.

Periodically I let Keil Bay come into the barn aisle with me, with the barn doors open to the big barnyard so he can saunter in and out. I don't know why he loves this so much, but he takes great joy in grazing the barnyard, snacking on the round bale, and then marching into the barn aisle to check in with me. His comings and goings create a nice rhythm to the work, and when I'm done I can either tack him up and ride or groom/check his feet/etc. before letting him back into his stall/paddock.

The only bravery associated with the morning was the management of a black widow spider. Otherwise it was one more happy day with the horses. (and of course, the donkeys too!)

The Day Before The Anniversary of Keil Bay’s Passing

 Of course we have all been thinking of him, and he was with me yesterday on my way to massage, galloping alongside my car with the backdrop of fall colors behind him, all the yellows and oranges and reds of North Carolina trees. It is often how I think of him, his deep red bay color rich and distinct, with fall coloring behind him, and then winter coloring too. 

But then I think of him in all the seasons, all the months, all the days. He lived with me through so many years. 

Today my husband walked in with a chipping sparrow nest in his hand. We usually find them in the early spring, when the winds are blowing, but here this one was the day before the anniversary of Keil Bay’s passing. I was afraid to look at it because I dreaded the first one without his black tail hair woven in. But when I looked, there was ONE black hair, and as far as I’m concerned that is all the proof I need to know that Keil is still very much with us in spirit. 

All the seasons, all the years.

This evening I was driving and the trees were brilliant oranges and reds and yellows, and George Winston’s version of Pachelbel’s Canon came on my playlist. This is now Keil Bay’s song, and I felt him and saw him galloping alongside the car, with Salina, their red bay and deep black bodies muscled and elegant. I burst into tears and sobbed. I miss him so much, still, but I also feel him close so much of the time. 

He was and is the King. Love you, Big Handsome Bay.