Wednesday, May 6, 2009

Wednesday, May 5th, 2009

(Here's a photo of me riding in Alaska last June! I'll try to get a good shot of Katy-Morgan some time. I can't remember this horse's name but he was a nice character. The ground we rode over was very spongey, but he handled it just fine.)

This time of year just blows me away. Yesterday morning, walking back from digging leeks with my husband to send to his parents in Florida, I saw my first Nashville warbler! I missed the roufous crown spot, so will have to try for another look. It was up by the Lyons Road, a wonderful, steep little seasonal connector between Irish Hill and Shamrock Roads. The girls used to call it the Lions and Tigers Road, and loved to run screaming down the hill after walking up to it. I also saw a Blackburnian in the treetops out behind the old chicken house. I was grateful to find our hunter neighbors had taken down their deerstand that was over the border on one of our trees and from which one could see our house and conceivably fire into our back yard. This morning I scouted down an elusive woodthrush to add to my 2009 list. It was impossible to mimic the ethereal, twining double notes.

The Junior Girl Scouts came up to ride Star and Shady yesterday afternoon. It's pretty hard to talk seven fourth grade girls into surpressing their urge to shriek and leap about wildly! "Horses are prey animals, they spook easily . . ." Ah well. They weren't too bad and I think they all had fun. Star was a good old girl and Shady was great considering she hasn't been ridden in over a year. We didn't take Katy out as she's a bit of a fireball. Here's her rhyme:

Katy’s Made for Galloping

Katy’s made for galloping and Katy loves to run
Katy thinks that walking really isn’t very fun

Her walk is locomotive and her trot’s a little bumpy
She’s got not use for cantering, it only makes her jumpy

Oh, she’ll slow down if you sit right back and really tell her whoa
But Katy’s got two settings; one is stop, and one is go

Katy’s built for bushwhacking, as broad as she is tall
You wouldn’t think that Morgan mare had any speed at all

But out across the meadow track, underneath the sky
I gather up the reins and then I let my Katy fly

You may call my horse a fireball, even call her crazy
But one thing that you couldn’t call my little mare is lazy