Winter is here. Well, it’s supposed to be here, but our average temperature is above the normal. It has rained a lot, in fact as I write, it is a deluge.
Long gone are the pleasant days and evenings of our summer. I still ride out, trying to dodge the showers, and soft ground.
It’s a time to reflect and clean leather, some of which is long over due. Vaquero Cream for the Bosal, and saddle butter for the leather. Beautiful smells, a quiet Tack room and the smell of clean leather, dogs laying by the stove, and coffee brewing. Age, I find has its advantages, one of which is the ability to appreciate that which has been ignored before
I’ve had some wonderful memories of rides with Gracie and friends across the years. If any horse helped me, it was Gracie, staunchly loyal, opinionated, and physically strong. She took me across many hills, valleys and numerous miles of country. Never baulked except when she sensed danger, and there was a few times. It took me a while to realize that what she was doing, was protecting me and herself from soft ground, faulty bridges, and many other things.
Partially retired now, I look at her and smile, they say they don’t live as we do, but I’m almost sure they warm to us, perhaps even accept us, but never ever does that acceptance become total.
She swishes her tail now quietly surveying her Kingdom, keeping two young geldings in line.
It’s been a mixed bag of weather, plus I haven’t felt too good. It seems age has caught up with me, and after two heart attacks in three years, I do feel weak at times. It’s a short term event, maybe a few days, but very tiring and debilitating. This is where my horses rescue me from indulging in my own self pity, such as it is, it’s more an anger at getting old. Sort of “Rage against the Machine” moment.
These two are my youngsters, just love ’em!
All three together, Gracie in the middle, the senior mare. She keeps them all in line, and me to be honest!
To willow in the seductive landscape if the mountains. The peace of mind that comes with beauty, is real and calming.
The day started wet, but at least we were out, far and away the best salve for a mind full of thoughts bound for the interminable scrapheap of memory. The day finished in great weather, loved every minute of it. I like walking downhill, it’s less effort, and gives TOGG a breather, poor old lass.
I am fat!….. TOGG told me so, as we were struggling up this damn hill. Mind you, it was a steep one. And here in the Lake District, there are a few, this one is Helvellyn, only 3,111 feet. I really must do some dieting!
Having rest like this? Not a good sign, but well worth the effort. My head tells me I’m a kid, my body states otherwise, and of course the body is right. But, onwards and upwards.