friesians in motion

Yesterday we went to see a horse and carriage Christmas parade, which was wonderful. Unfortunately, my camera battery was near death and so I have no photographs.

There was one very long carriage that held more people than you would think possible, pulled by two huge and gorgeous Friesians. Oh my gosh - they were slick and shiny with sweat, all dressed up in huge harness bells and fancy holiday harness.

Their hooves were big and feathered, their tails short and curly. The sound of their floating, powerful, synchronized trot was both calming and mysterious. The clop-clop and the rhythmic low jangle of the bells was mesmerizing.

I came home full of inspiration and wanting to drive those black beauties down a long, isolated carriage path on a cold winter morning.

seeking light(ness)

This week has been full of changes regarding horse management and riding methods. On Monday a new barefoot trim practitioner came to do a consult on all four horses' feet. At the end of a nearly 3-hour no-charge consultation, I had four horses in the front field encircling him, completely absorbed in his presence.

As a result of his visit, I'm feeling good about a number of things I already have in place that lead to good hoof health. I'll be cutting back on processed feed - slow but steady until we cut it out entirely. Keil Bay is getting hoof boots to wear on his front feet while under saddle so that he can get the comfort he needs to land heel first. I have a new remedy for thrush/yeast. And finally, I'll be learning to trim their hooves myself!

It was cool and misty and foggy on Monday morning but it felt like we'd found the light in an area of horse management that's been very murky for me.

I've also been working on the issue of lightness with the driving aids. We've struggled with the instruction to "smack him harder" - him being the pony. It's gotten to the point I feel like screaming when I hear that phrase. We're ditching the whips to work with Marlis Amato on what she calls effortless cooperation. A touch of the leg to the horse's side is all it takes. The first session is scheduled for, appropriately, the afternoon of winter solstice.

All this is coming to pass this week as I ready to begin work on the YA "magical pony" novel I've been simmering for several years. I'm seeking light in that area as well. A title for this story whose action begins on the eve of winter solstice.

In a way, I'll be writing toward the light that winter solstice brings.

Here's to a light-filled December.

nearly full november moon

A few nights ago, my daughter and I were out doing barn chores when I noticed this gorgeous moon had risen over the back field. Suddenly everything became quite magical and I realized that exact feeling is what I want to capture in my YA novel that thus far has one chapter written over a year ago.

Starting December 1st, I'm planning to get busy and get a first draft done. I hadn't planned this until late one night near the end of October when some writers were posting about doing NanoWriMo. I got excited and jumped on the bandwagon. As is typical for me, I took the whole thing a step further and decided to do not only a November writing project but a December one too.

It never occurred to me until several weeks later that the YA novel begins on the winter solstice, so doing it in December will be perfect.

This photo is a reminder to me of the mood of that evening. I'm looking forward to some writing in the barn.

back to work

I've taken a bit of a break on my November writing project, giving that energy to mystic-lit the past week. Now that the new blog is rolling somewhat independently, I've returned to the nonfiction book.

This morning I typed into 22k, which means I'm continuing to inch along. What I have is fairly complete, but more like the skeleton and muscle. Now I'm fleshing it out.

I'm planning to continue until the last day of November. December 1st, I'll begin the YA novel in earnest. More about that then.

If you're working on a writing project this month, feel free to share your progress, your stuck places, whatever.

And, if you visit here and consider yourself a writer, think about submitting something to me for a guest blog slot over at mystic-lit.

thanks giving

I'm reprising the Wendell Berry poem I've shared here before:


The Wild Geese


Horseback on Sunday morning,
harvest over, we taste persimmon
and wild grape, sharp sweet
of summer's end. In time's maze
over fall fields, we name names
that went west from here, names
that rest on graves. We open
a persimmon seed to find the tree
that stands in promise,
pale, in the seed's marrow.
Geese appear high over us,
pass, and the sky closes. Abandon,
as in love or sleep, holds
them to their way, clear,
in the ancient faith: what we need
is here. And we pray, not
for new earth or heaven, but to be
quiet in heart, and in eye
clear. What we need is here.