A Frame Overo Deer In Front of My Home Lives

I saw her in her first fall, a frame overo fawn,
Snow white sides and a pie-bald face.
But that cannot be. There is no such thing.
A 10 year old wild stallion, an 8 year old rider
Cantering through the woods with confidence and grace.
But that cannot be. There is no such thing.

The following fall with her first fawn at her side,
a plain brown fawn, she burst by me like a flame.
But that cannot be. There is no such thing.
A two hundred pound rider on a 13 hand horse
50 miles in one day, cruising in comfort, neither in pain.
No, that cannot be. There is no such thing.

Now she is grown and has raised three fawns.
Looking from my window and I saw her stand by my mail box.
But that cannot be. There is no such thing.
Bare footed Spanish mustangs cantering happily through rocks.
Surely, that cannot be. There is no such thing.

When last we met she stood silently by the trail.
white sides glistening before she bolted through the pines.
But that cannot be. There is no such thing.
Little children training wild horses and making fine 'quines.
Impossible! that cannot be. There is no such thing.

Yes,a frame overo deer in front of my house lives.
Each time I see her I am reminded that what some think isn't; really is.
Oh yes,she CAN be. She is such a beautiful thing.
Little children saving Corollas, a soft open hand conquers a developer's fist.
And it WILL be. Wild and Free, such a beautiful thing.

(A frame overo is a pattern of pinto coloration often found in Paint horses. The white pattern is surrounded by a darker color that goes around the horse's top and bottom much like a picture frame. This doe is very very real and carries that same unusual marking.)

Standing On Higher Ground

Riding through the snow covered woods in the darkness gave me one big surprise. The horses maintained their footing and the lead horses trotted along the safest part of the trail even though they could not see the ground. In the recesses of their minds they had memorized where to take a hard left and which side of the path was the safest for jumping. To a human eye the trail all looked the same, just a blanket of snow. The horses could feel their way along the familiar sections of trail.

It Was Too Dark For Me to See the Ice Hanging From

my aged body. In fact it is too cold for me to even write about what the kids and our horses just took me through so I am now turning this key board over to Lydia and Emily so that they can do so.

Hi! This is Emily and Lydia is in the chair next to me... We have just gotten back from one of the coldest rides in the history of Mill Swamp according to Lydia, according to me one of the funnest. But I have a hard time rating the rides out here because I always have such a wonderful time.

At the moment we are "snowed in", Virginia-style, with big plans for avoiding cabin-fever. We sort of knew the storm was coming, so we brought our snow gear and stayed at Steve's house last night so that we could be snowed in here rather than in Portsmouth.

This morning after breakfast, Lydia showed up ready to go feed-up horses in some very uncool looking ski pants (Lydia says that "uncool" isn't a good word and to say "spiffy" instead) that Steve said made her look skinny. I thought this was hilarious because Lydia is skinny as a rail anyway. They saved her from the troubles of wet pants all day, she says. She wants to thank her mother for convincing her to bring them because she was hot when Steve and I were frozen.

After admiring Lydia's choice in fashion, we drove out to the horse lot in Steve's little SUV to feed and water everybody. I love how horses look in snow, especially when they run. It's like no other sight on earth. We got to wondering how deep the snow was in the woods, so we each grapped a horse and headed out to see. It was about 6 inches deep, for the record. The horses were very sure-footed and seemed to remember every inch of the trail even though they couldn't see it.

When we got back, we were starving. Beth very wonderfully had hot soup ready for us. Hot food is amazing after getting wet and frozen.

Ater lunch, Steve took a nap on the couch for three hours while we watched a movie--this enabled him (at his advanced age and all) to be able to go on a snowy night ride with us after a delicous dinner. We rode on and on in the darkness, talking and laughing and generally having a great time. When my feet were sufficiently frozen, I suggested that we turn around and head home. Steve looked over at me and crowed that he had "beat a Marble", then kept talking as he turned Holland around. I'm a sore looser, so instead of turning around, I got my horse into a canter in the opposite direction. Lydia thought that was a good idea and came, too. It took Steve a minute to figure out that he was talking to his horse instead of to us...

This Boy Would Have Confused Darwin

This morning I was doing a brisk little canter/gaiting session with Carley and her older brother whose name we will not mention in order to protect him from any regional hostilities that he might have generated.

We were discussing Neanderthals. I explained that they were broad, thick and powerfully built. I explained that they likely had a level of intelligence below ours and that they probably had a very limited vocabulary.

"Sounds like they were a lot like people from Missouri," said the unnamed rider.

What Riding Discipline Do You Teach?

We do not teach a riding discipline. We teach a riding freedom. We ride with a loose rein and control our horses primarily with leg cues. Our riding posture is not designed to look pretty in a show ring. Instead, it is designed to be comfortable to the horse and the rider as we navigate through the woods and swamps of Tidewater. We do not sit erect as if in a military parade. We go for the posture of a tired old cowboy with tuberculosis who chain smokes Camels.

Emma started riding with us this weekend. She spent Saturday and Sunday afternoon riding through the muck, galloping up hills, and gaiting smoothly down the trails. On Saturday she cruised along on our wild Corolla stallion, Manteo. On Sunday she rode Porter, another wild Corolla.

She has ridden in a formal English style previously so it will take her a while to learn to ride in a manner that will make her look like "a total slob." Her horse and her spine will love her journey into slobdom.