Archive for the ‘poetry of apaul’ category

Partners

November 4, 2021

Rain drained most of the trees of their fall color, but some persist, flickering with flames of yellow, orange, and red.

My friend and I marked marked the annual pumpkin ride in the rain. It wasn’t too bad but by the time we finished 9 miles, we were drenched with both rain and laughter.

Autumn

I stress about trail marking and over mark so as not to lose anyone one in the forest. Getting lost in Upton State Forest is not likely. There are two main “roads” that circle it. Trails weave through and around them. Both go directly back to parking. 

We marked trails seldom used off Loop Road. They were a bit wet from this year’s constant rain, but passable with good stretches to move out.

October was not as busy as I hoped. Jigs and I competed again in a Mountain Trail Competition. The few lessons helped, we finished first in novice, but our scores were about the same in level one.  The mistakes were mine.

I’m surprised at how much I did learn in three lessons. We worked on hands and leg placement. Our turns are much better.

Unfortunately, lessons stopped due to the instructor’s schedule. Or maybe that was a polite excuse. Working with an older riding pair and a especially a “quarter horse” is not every dressage instructor’s dream. Best to have younger athletic riders and horses to work with, I suspect.  Too bad, I believe I could learn a lot from him.

Cross Buck

I signed up for a working equitation and western dressage clinic later this month. The clinician is popular in the area. Maybe she will give me a few more things to work on. I’m curious about both disciplines.

Next year I want to try different things. Jigs will be 19; our time together is flying by. He is the best horse I have owned and the most forgiving. I am so grateful for his friendship and all he has given me.

Begonia

September 12, 2021

Discarded in a ditch,

remnants of begonia persist.

Did it once adorn a pool patio?

Or hang above a manicured lawn?

No longer perfect, was it abandoned,

not worth the try?

Dried dirt clumps around brown roots

still holding the shape of a basket.

Out of thirsty stems, shriveled leaves gather sun.

Cautiously a small crown of flowers grows,

petals mirroring passing clouds.

Spun by currents of light, Earth leans toward life.

New Years 2021

December 31, 2020

No expectations going into 2021.

Clairvoyance is not my superpower. What will happen, will happen.

Remaining in reverse will not change anything other than digging a muddy rut you cannot escape, even with an 8-cylandar engine and 4-wheel drive.

Best to focus on each moment for what it is. Breathe it in then let it go.

Partners

April 18, 2020

Horses saved my life twice, once when I was a rebellious teen and again in middle age. I don’t speak much about the recurring depression that rises out of my insecurities, of my anxiety. The presence of my horse lifts this shadow. My eyes dilate when I gaze on him and I see the world as a more perfect place.  My breath slows to match his. My heart beats with his. Together, we remain in a moment where the past is gone and the future, immaterial.

00000PORTRAIT_00000_BURST20200229142728447

 

The human/equine symbiotic relationship is hard for non-horse lovers to understand. Some humans are born to bond with these magnificent beings. Our souls long for their presence. On their backs, we fly. We walk more confident beside them.

I am grateful for the grace my horse shares with me in these strange times. Perhaps, I am saved again.

Leap Day or Smartest Pony in the World

February 29, 2020

An extra day.  February has always been fickle.  Too windy for me to ride due to memories of a fall from Pepper that ended in a broken ankle, I decided it best to keep my feet on the ground.

Jigs I and took a walk through the woods. We do that occasionally. He seems to enjoy it and I believe it is good for relationship building.

We walked down to the old “pine grove” where we used to ride when boarding at the other barn. The local land trust recently purchased the property, but not before loggers made a mess of the trails. We had to bushwhack through their debris.

I encountered burdock. Placing my mittens on ground, I struggled to remove the annoying stickies from my leggings. Somehow Jigs had avoided them. I let out an exasperated breath.  Jigs lowered his head, grabbed one of my mittens and handed it to me.

Oh, of course, he was expecting a treat. His nose was already at my pocket.

“What about that one?” I asked Jigs pointing to the remaining mitten. He picked up and handed it to me.  Another treat.

I have been working for years on teaching Jigs to ‘fetch’ hats and gloves with the hope that one day, it could be a useful trick if I dropped something from his back.  

In all that time, he has never handed me something without being asked. Today, he just did it- no cue. It was like he anticipated I was going to get the mittens and decided to help out.

“Smart pony,” I said scratching behind his ear. “Maybe you can lead yourself sometime like Olive.”

Olive is the lab who lives with me. When I put her on the leash, she will pick up the end and lead herself to the door.

I was only kidding when I said that to Jigs.

Pleased with my pony’s intelligence, we came out of the woods and walked up the road. It had gotten warmer. I stopped to take off my mittens, inadvertently dropping the lead rope.

Jigs looked at it and then at me. Slowly, he dropped his head, picked up the lead rope and handed it to me.

His look was clear, “where is my cookie?”

#besthorseintheworld  #smartesthorseintheworld

Smartest Pony in the World

2020

February 15, 2020

My January 1st ritual every year is to remove Jigs’ ribbons above his stall. It is how I refocus on new goals, new challenges.   It is mid-February and they are still up. 2019 was a tough year. I lost my mother. The ribbons are a reminder there were positive moments.  I really need to take them down.

Last Sunday was The Bay State Trail Riders Association’s annual meeting and banquet. I’d almost forgotten Jigs and I had won the Judged Pleasure Ride and qualified for a year end award.  To my delight, the award was a beautiful riding skirt that matches my saddle! 

I was so excited; I drove from the banquet right to the barn to try it out!

Rding Skirt

Riding Skirt

It is perfect.

I don’t know what 2020 will bring, maybe a few more ribbons, maybe myriad meandering trail rides. And when the weather is wet and cold, I will be wearing a lovely turquoise riding skirt! 

2019 Prospective

December 30, 2018

End of December is the time for retrospectives of the year. A lot of the bloggers I follow have posted theirs already. One stated that blogs are old school and announced she is moving to other venues, pod casts, on line classrooms, for a fee. The free blog will remain, but I wonder for how long. Everyone must make a living. I get that.

Rather than looking back, I am looking toward 2019. Disclaimer-despite my fondness for Tarot, I am not clairvoyant. Expectations may or may not be realized. There will be hardships. There will be moments of joy. My hope is joy will out weight hardships.

And what are my expectations?

I expect to laugh and cry with those I love. I expect to continue preparing for retirement. I expect to ride Jigs down new trails. I expect to attend horse events, lessons, cow sorting, versatility, maybe a show if I get brave. I expect to win a few ribbons. Maybe.

Missing are my wished-for things: economic stability, a truck, Jigs at home with me, a finished book of poetry, 40 years in the making.

20181230_093537

On January first, I will take down the ribbons Jigs won in 2018 and put away the memories of our successes, near successes, and yes, failures.

The space above his stall will be empty- a proverbial blank slate- a space for realized possibilities that will become 2019.

Happy New Year’s!

 

Do Horses Need Vacations from Humans?

October 6, 2018

Summer is gone.

Not sure how and when it went but it is definitely gone. This morning was cold enough to require a jacket- orange to be visible to hunters, although it is not deer season yet.

Riding was a luxury this past summer. Work got into the way. My mother was ill.

Fall started off the same. In September I spent two weeks in Australia, missing some of my favorite organized trail rides. Except for a few sessions with my instructor, Jigs was on vacation.

Last weekend, after only riding twice since my return, we competed in a local Versatility. Jigs was a superstar and we finished first overall! I am proud of him.

20180930_153618

1st Place 2018

Winning despite our light riding schedule got me to thinking. I had been feeling guilty about not spending time with him, about not riding enough, for heaven sakes, about not grooming him enough. These are the thoughts that run wild when I am stressed, when I am tired.

Jigs is a horse. He may have noticed I was missing, or not. After all, he had his herd mates, daily feedings. He gets the best care at the barn where he is boarded. Isn’t that what matter most to him?

Is it human hubris to think I matter to him when out of sight?

Maybe the time off was good for him. He got a break, a vacation if you will, from my constant stress and self-nagging. Maybe not.

The one thing I do know, Jigs was certainly a superstar last weekend!

Loosestrife

July 22, 2018

20180722_161946

“Invasive,”

the word conjures

metal armored legions

and goose-stepping Fascists,

not the purple-palled spires

that rise from marsh ponds

and riverbanks.

Every Summer, the purple army

spreads across New England.

“A plague,” say some.

 

Some years it is

gypsy moth caterpillars.

Their obnoxious pellets

cover everything

from cars to picnics.

Nothing is sacred.

One year they stripped the leaves

from the trees so that August

resembled April and Spring

came twice that year.

At night, we even heard

their munching in our sleep-

noxious soldiers

devouring forests.

 

Experts warned

the trees would die

if the caterpillars

were not stopped.

Three years of deleafing

is more than even

an oak can stand.

So that Spring

we wound foil

and Vaseline

around tree trunks,

sprayed insecticide

at the base,

and held our breath

as we waited

for the barrage to descend

from silken tents.

 

Nothing happened.

No caterpillars

wicked as Nazis,

organized as Romans

arrived. “A virus,”

experts shrugged.

 

 

The Amazon basin

is being strip mined,

the Borneo rainforest

razed by loggers.

We consume, inhabit

every place march out

even into space.

Look at those purple spires,

feathers reaching

toward the sun.

They reflect back

in the black pond water,

nodding occasionally

to the wind,

or a ripple

from a passing trout.

Unicorn Horns

June 18, 2018

Jigs and I snagged third in Sunday’s versatility.  Not terrible, but not competitive.

20180617_123220

3rd Open Division

After only two riding lessons, I am not confident to canter between obstacles. But I AM more aware of my lack of riding skills.  My body lurches too far forward and my legs curl too far back.  Watching the video of our run was painful. Ugg.

35508715_10211928706313384_3393741071191113728_o

Beep Beep Beep or Back Back Back

I’m having doubts that I can get better.

35509521_10211928700553240_9069000363796856832_o

Cracking the Egg

But we had fun, even managed to sneak into the Atlantic Ocean to cool off.

That’s the whole point, isn’t it? Relieving stress? Not creating it?

The minis at the versatility were so damned cute. Watching them helped me forget my shortcomings. And there was a horse with a UNICORN HORN!  A lovely, shiny rainbow horn.

Ebay, Etsy. I searched  and found they are out there. Unicorn Horns. For sale! Realize your fantasy. What color should I order?

Jigs would  ABSOLUTELY hate having a unicorn horn.

He was not thrilled with the flowers I clipped to his mane or the bright blue biothane tack or the turquoise saddle seat. Okay It’s me who is not too keen on the seat and horses don’t see color that well.

35553438_10211928694193081_4731811129800523776_o

Waiting Our Turn

As I told someone recently, I am one of those aged women who try to relive the childhood we wish we had with glittery tack.

If I can’t be a good rider, maybe I can distract myself with sparkles?

There is another versatility next weekend and a trail competition…. Best to stick with the riding lessons. Better for Jigs, better for me.