foreshadowing

Today was one of those perfect days that defies the calendar and foreshadows spring: sunshine, bulbs near to bloom, a few flies buzzing around, a March wind. The horses are starting to shed some of their winter coats, and Keil Bay needed sponging after our ride. The water from the barn pump felt cool instead of cold, and lawnmowers buzzed in the afternoon. No one was actually mowing grass yet, but it was easy to imagine they might be.

The day lasted longer, it seemed. Shadows etched images all over the house, through the windows, and outside, on the back of the barn, the branches of the maple tree seemed to form a living creature, in silhouette, against the wall. The shadows of last year's leaves could easily be new ones. The horses stayed out past dark, imagining night-time turn-out in such balmy weather, because the wind died down to nothing at dusk, and suddenly it was warm, uncannily so, for the slide into evening.

Early this morning we clicked back to February and temps in the thirties. It will seem chilly today but we'll settle back in and wait for the real thing to come.

good day

Good book stuff today, continuing to weave a subplot more solidly into the novel. I love when the pieces start falling into place almost on their own.

This afternoon, I had a workshop on classical dressage. Talking about the training scale: rhythm, relaxation, connection, impulsion, straightness, and collection, and watching videos of horses and riders doing the higher level movements, analyzing the various components of the scale.

When I was young I wanted to go to a riding school where my days would be full of horses and learning. I can just imagine what it would have been like to study the training scale instead of advanced math.

A number of people lingered after class to talk about our own horses and pony club and homeopathy. Interesting discussion, favorite topics.

Good day.

animal communicators

There's a long and fascinating thread on my local horse forum about animal communicators. A number of people have consulted an animal communicator about their horses, with amazing results. The communicator talks to the horse, often remotely, and conveys information to the owner, who can ask questions or just get a general "read."

I'm definitely intrigued, and impressed at the quite specific info some of these horse owners received, all of which the communicator had no way of knowing. In some cases critical medical issues were solved, and in others, personality quirks were explained. Not one horse owner regretted the reading, and each one felt she'd learned something important about her horse.

This particular communicator is local to me, and also a veterinarian, so her knowledge is broad about animal issues. I'm considering giving her a call.

Would you consider using an animal communicator for a horse or other of your animal family?

If so, what questions would you ask?

indulgence

I'm done with outside responsibilities for the week, the rain which continued all through last night is out of here, and we are getting a new load of hay in later. I have hit a wonderful deep place in novel edits, and have been walking around channeling information and details and scenes - a favorite place to be when working on a novel.

I blogged about that yesterday at mystic-lit.

Today I'm indulging in the novel, the horses, and just being home with no expectations.

Enjoy your day!

the other side of the coin

One of the things I love most about our little farm is what it teaches me, every single day. In the minutiae of a day's chores and meanderings bloom a hundred little lessons.

This morning I woke up to fog, and the remains of what appears to have been an all-night, deep soaking rain.

Here in the southeast, we've been in a drought situation for about a year. There have been months where the ground in our yard cracked, looking like something from another planet, due to the dryness.

We lived through a terrible flea season, a worse than usual fly season, and listened to ever-alarming news reports about the dire water situation. Hay crops dried to nothing.

But then autumn came and we witnessed one of the most spectacular show of leaves I've ever seen. Apparently one blessing in drought is that it makes for gorgeous fall color.

Every time it rains now, I rejoice, because we need it. But here on the farm, I'm also reminded of the platitude - that other side of the coin.

The horses trudged in through mud for their breakfast, and I trudged back out to the field with them throwing hay, wondering if I should really be letting them out. Their hooves tear up the field when it's so wet, and they roll and get truly coated in mud. But it's warm, and the sun keeps peeping out, and I know they want to be walking and grazing and rolling, so I let them.

I think about the thrush issue, and keeping their feet dry. Remember the dust last summer, the hard ground and arena footing. The cost of hay. The stress of finding good hay.

How can I complain too much, when either side has its difficulties? And, of course, its blessings.

This looking at both sides and dealing with what IS, right now, becomes a way of life, day by day, here at November Hill. What a gift it is.