billie hinton’s camera-obscura:
life and lessons on November Hill Farm
Monday, September 12, 2011
Friday, September 09, 2011
lessons in riding, 8: infinity
This morning someone sent me THIS LINK - it shows a keeper saying goodbye to his long-time elephant friend, and her incredible reunion with an elephant she knew from 20+ years ago. It also reveals the relationships humans can have with animals, as well as what we take away from them when we remove them from their natural families and environments.
I was in tears only a few seconds into the video. And I'm sure no one will be surprised when I point out that the same is true of horses and donkeys. They form attachments, have complex relationships, and it matters to them when those are broken by humans buying and selling and not always considering what it means to them to be shifted around that way.
The day got crazy and I had ten different errands to run and things to do. I started feeling a bit frenzied, like I wasn't all the way in my body any more. Around 6:30 this evening I decided it was in my best interest to go out and see if Keil Bay was up for a ride.
When I got to the barn he was in the back field, out of sight down the hill. I called out his name and instantly his handsome head popped up. "Come in and let's have a ride," I called out, and he picked up a big bold walk and in about a minute was at the gate to the barnyard, ready to oblige.
I knew I needed to get moving and groom quickly so I could get into the arena before it got dark. I often get lost in the grooming, and we enjoy that, so it's not a bad thing, but today I really needed to ride. Keil cooperated by lifting each hoof for cleaning before I even got to it. He craned around when I sang a song about the two of us dancing to the classical music on the radio. He was ready to go, just as much as I was.
In the arena I hopped on. There was no time to waste fidgeting with the mounting block. And then I was in the saddle. My feet found the stirrups and almost that quickly, I was grounded.
All the frenzy drained right out through the heels of my boots. I noticed a couple of huge horse flies swooping and warned them off. They left. We proceeded with a very relaxed walk. I had no desire to "train" or "work." I just wanted to find that nice place Keil Bay is so good at taking me to - where my inadequacies as a rider melt away and our shared crookednesses don't matter one bit.
The dressage markers are still stacked in one corner of the arena from my pre-hurricane prep, so we used the entire arena initially and just walked. Relaxed walk, with changes of direction across the diagonals, stretching and moving.
A small herd of deer emerged from the forest in our neighbor's yard, in full view, close to where the pony and Cody were grazing. Keil Bay looked and peered and then we turned the corner and he forgot they were there.
We gradually picked up the walk and moved in to the actual dressage "rectangle." We did a little leg yielding but mostly I wanted us to walk and get into a nice rhythm, as if we were on a stroll. I alternated between taking a little contact and going to the buckle, and in about 15 minutes Keil responded to the slightest touch of my legs with a trot.
About that time a V of geese flew right over us, low, so that we could not only hear the honking but heard the wings as well. I thought of Wendell Berry's poem. Quiet in heart and in eye clear. What we need is here.
Keil Bay let me know he was warmed up by becoming perfectly responsive to my legs. I only had to think of touching him with them and he went into his signature trot, on the bit, powerful, but very controlled. I sat. I didn't bounce. My feet hung almost weightless in the stirrups.
The moon is waxing and gibbous and it rose up over the tree line by the A end of the arena. Each time we came around I felt its luminance.
We moved into a very small bit of work on the 20m circle. And then we went out again, on the buckle, happy, in near darkness lit by the arena light and the nearly full moon, grounded.
In the barn Keil Bay stood in the doorway of the tack room and waited while I took off his bridle and his saddle. He was perfectly patient as I took off my helmet and put the whip away. He took his alfalfa pellets and his oats and lifted his hooves one by one on cue so I could check them. He stood while I brushed him down.
And even when we were done, and he was free to go, had been all along, he stood. We had our moment of stillness together and then I opened the barn doors so he could join Salina and the donkeys in the grass paddock.
I was in tears only a few seconds into the video. And I'm sure no one will be surprised when I point out that the same is true of horses and donkeys. They form attachments, have complex relationships, and it matters to them when those are broken by humans buying and selling and not always considering what it means to them to be shifted around that way.
The day got crazy and I had ten different errands to run and things to do. I started feeling a bit frenzied, like I wasn't all the way in my body any more. Around 6:30 this evening I decided it was in my best interest to go out and see if Keil Bay was up for a ride.
When I got to the barn he was in the back field, out of sight down the hill. I called out his name and instantly his handsome head popped up. "Come in and let's have a ride," I called out, and he picked up a big bold walk and in about a minute was at the gate to the barnyard, ready to oblige.
I knew I needed to get moving and groom quickly so I could get into the arena before it got dark. I often get lost in the grooming, and we enjoy that, so it's not a bad thing, but today I really needed to ride. Keil cooperated by lifting each hoof for cleaning before I even got to it. He craned around when I sang a song about the two of us dancing to the classical music on the radio. He was ready to go, just as much as I was.
In the arena I hopped on. There was no time to waste fidgeting with the mounting block. And then I was in the saddle. My feet found the stirrups and almost that quickly, I was grounded.
All the frenzy drained right out through the heels of my boots. I noticed a couple of huge horse flies swooping and warned them off. They left. We proceeded with a very relaxed walk. I had no desire to "train" or "work." I just wanted to find that nice place Keil Bay is so good at taking me to - where my inadequacies as a rider melt away and our shared crookednesses don't matter one bit.
The dressage markers are still stacked in one corner of the arena from my pre-hurricane prep, so we used the entire arena initially and just walked. Relaxed walk, with changes of direction across the diagonals, stretching and moving.
A small herd of deer emerged from the forest in our neighbor's yard, in full view, close to where the pony and Cody were grazing. Keil Bay looked and peered and then we turned the corner and he forgot they were there.
We gradually picked up the walk and moved in to the actual dressage "rectangle." We did a little leg yielding but mostly I wanted us to walk and get into a nice rhythm, as if we were on a stroll. I alternated between taking a little contact and going to the buckle, and in about 15 minutes Keil responded to the slightest touch of my legs with a trot.
About that time a V of geese flew right over us, low, so that we could not only hear the honking but heard the wings as well. I thought of Wendell Berry's poem. Quiet in heart and in eye clear. What we need is here.
Keil Bay let me know he was warmed up by becoming perfectly responsive to my legs. I only had to think of touching him with them and he went into his signature trot, on the bit, powerful, but very controlled. I sat. I didn't bounce. My feet hung almost weightless in the stirrups.
The moon is waxing and gibbous and it rose up over the tree line by the A end of the arena. Each time we came around I felt its luminance.
We moved into a very small bit of work on the 20m circle. And then we went out again, on the buckle, happy, in near darkness lit by the arena light and the nearly full moon, grounded.
In the barn Keil Bay stood in the doorway of the tack room and waited while I took off his bridle and his saddle. He was perfectly patient as I took off my helmet and put the whip away. He took his alfalfa pellets and his oats and lifted his hooves one by one on cue so I could check them. He stood while I brushed him down.
And even when we were done, and he was free to go, had been all along, he stood. We had our moment of stillness together and then I opened the barn doors so he could join Salina and the donkeys in the grass paddock.
Tuesday, September 06, 2011
Keith Cronin's terrific novel, Me, Again, launches tomorrow!
Check out the book trailer. This is one of those books I have waited for and can't wait to read.
Thursday, September 01, 2011
september already? a few tidbits from August
Hard to believe it's already September and my hiatus from the internet is over. I admit, about two weeks in I started wondering why I would even come back. There is so much to do on November Hill on any given day I had no real time to miss blogging or Facebooking.
But a few things pulled me back and here I am.
In August we had an earthquake, the outer edge of a hurricane, a number of severe thunderstorms that involved many very close lightning strikes, more heat, and finally a cooling down.
We enjoyed the mourning dove couple's two dovelings who are now adolescents. The four of them hang out in the same areas each day and it's always a treat to see a new generation of birds come into their own.
The fall spiders are here and for the first time ever, one made it into the house and built a big beautiful web by a window. It relocated to the kitchen counter right by the stove, and then my husband relocated it to the back deck.
The charm of goldfinches have entertained me more than usual this year. They fuss when a storm rolls in. Even as lightning is striking and thunder is booming, they sit in the sweetgum tree and fuss fuss fuss. They fuss at the cats sitting on the front porch. Yesterday Muffine Eloise was on the porch rail lounging and at least six goldfinches were in the dogwood tree in full glory chattering away at her.
One evening when the sky grew dark and thunder/rain rolled in, I looked on the front porch and spotted a huge praying mantis standing on the porch rail, looking out over the front field, watching the storm.
We plugged in one of those Feliway gadgets upstairs and so far I am noticing the sisters laying serenely at the top of the stairs. I'm not sure what else it might be doing, but we had a cat marking war going on up there and I decided to give this a try. We'll see.
Out at the barn we had a very interesting incident that I'll be incorporating into my book. As soon as I do, I'll share that chapter here. As usual my equine herd keep me busy with all they have to teach and share.
The pony now has three young beginning riders coming each week and I was surprised by how much he seems to enjoy it. He has been the best pony ever, again, with each one. Cody has one rider coming once a week and I am completely impressed with his demeanor and the care he takes in his work. None of this crew have ever been used as "school" horses and I wasn't sure how this experiment would go. I'm proud that their trust and goodwill extends to young and beginning riders. And I'm thrilled the pony is having such a blast being an ambassador to a new generation of pony girls and boys.
Keil Bay took a turn yesterday and although he behaved with complete restraint, I was given the evil eye on and off the entire time. He clearly has no desire to teach anyone anything at this point in his life, and after slugging around quite literally glaring at me out of the corner of his eye, I hopped on when the rider left and he proceeded to do a quite lovely job of walk, trot, shoulder-in, leg yield, turns on the forehand, etc. His message was pretty clear.
We've done a few upgrades this past month. We brought in a small load of stone and bedded the hay tent. We replaced the very old and ugly electric fence tape at one end of the arena (we keep the tape there so we can take it down if needed to get big trucks in and out) - we decided to match the brown HorseGuard tape we have on most of the farm but instead of wood posts we covered the metal ones with their nifty brown covers. The end result is quite nice and we'll be continuing that in a few other places on the farm.
I have compost piles simmering, a few wood piles that need burning, and a lot more stone work to do.
We also have a new set of neighbors who are renting the horse farm down the lane. They moved in with two pony girls, three horses, a tiny pony, two goats, and several dogs and cats. There is now the daily sound of whinnying up and down our lane, and it's been fun hearing that.
There is more, but I'll save it for another post! Hope all are well and that folks who were more directly in the path of Hurricane Irene are recovering power, roads, etc.
But a few things pulled me back and here I am.
In August we had an earthquake, the outer edge of a hurricane, a number of severe thunderstorms that involved many very close lightning strikes, more heat, and finally a cooling down.
We enjoyed the mourning dove couple's two dovelings who are now adolescents. The four of them hang out in the same areas each day and it's always a treat to see a new generation of birds come into their own.
The fall spiders are here and for the first time ever, one made it into the house and built a big beautiful web by a window. It relocated to the kitchen counter right by the stove, and then my husband relocated it to the back deck.
The charm of goldfinches have entertained me more than usual this year. They fuss when a storm rolls in. Even as lightning is striking and thunder is booming, they sit in the sweetgum tree and fuss fuss fuss. They fuss at the cats sitting on the front porch. Yesterday Muffine Eloise was on the porch rail lounging and at least six goldfinches were in the dogwood tree in full glory chattering away at her.
One evening when the sky grew dark and thunder/rain rolled in, I looked on the front porch and spotted a huge praying mantis standing on the porch rail, looking out over the front field, watching the storm.
We plugged in one of those Feliway gadgets upstairs and so far I am noticing the sisters laying serenely at the top of the stairs. I'm not sure what else it might be doing, but we had a cat marking war going on up there and I decided to give this a try. We'll see.
Out at the barn we had a very interesting incident that I'll be incorporating into my book. As soon as I do, I'll share that chapter here. As usual my equine herd keep me busy with all they have to teach and share.
The pony now has three young beginning riders coming each week and I was surprised by how much he seems to enjoy it. He has been the best pony ever, again, with each one. Cody has one rider coming once a week and I am completely impressed with his demeanor and the care he takes in his work. None of this crew have ever been used as "school" horses and I wasn't sure how this experiment would go. I'm proud that their trust and goodwill extends to young and beginning riders. And I'm thrilled the pony is having such a blast being an ambassador to a new generation of pony girls and boys.
Keil Bay took a turn yesterday and although he behaved with complete restraint, I was given the evil eye on and off the entire time. He clearly has no desire to teach anyone anything at this point in his life, and after slugging around quite literally glaring at me out of the corner of his eye, I hopped on when the rider left and he proceeded to do a quite lovely job of walk, trot, shoulder-in, leg yield, turns on the forehand, etc. His message was pretty clear.
We've done a few upgrades this past month. We brought in a small load of stone and bedded the hay tent. We replaced the very old and ugly electric fence tape at one end of the arena (we keep the tape there so we can take it down if needed to get big trucks in and out) - we decided to match the brown HorseGuard tape we have on most of the farm but instead of wood posts we covered the metal ones with their nifty brown covers. The end result is quite nice and we'll be continuing that in a few other places on the farm.
I have compost piles simmering, a few wood piles that need burning, and a lot more stone work to do.
We also have a new set of neighbors who are renting the horse farm down the lane. They moved in with two pony girls, three horses, a tiny pony, two goats, and several dogs and cats. There is now the daily sound of whinnying up and down our lane, and it's been fun hearing that.
There is more, but I'll save it for another post! Hope all are well and that folks who were more directly in the path of Hurricane Irene are recovering power, roads, etc.
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