Staying at the “new” farm means not being able to see good friends at the “old.”
So many good days together out there, and I’ll miss Nancy, my friend and partner in crime, a lot. Have a feeling we still have some adventures together, just need to come up with a plan 🙂
Today, honoring the wonderful, enigmatic backdrop of the covered arena at Twisted Oak. It is absolutely magical – the colors and vegetation forever changing with the seasons. A treat and an honor to ride there.
I know the beauty can’t come through in the pictures enough (it wasn’t the focus at all when they were taken.) but it can look like a piece of art sometimes when you’re there. The twisty trees, the droopy tiny branches, the shadows, the moss, and the different leaves throughout the year…
So here goes, pictures from several different months! Ignore the riding, just look at how the colors change throughout the year!
Spring time March.
The never-ending summer. August. So hot you can taste it.
The minute you consider yourself not good enough, too old, or without enough talent.
There’s no shame in that. Everything has to come to an end at one point. And that’s alright. Accept, and move on.
Maybe it’s the “move on” part people get stuck on? Ranting about it. Endlessly telling anyone who cares, or sadly just ended up within earshot, how they would be doing it if it wasn’t for A, B, or C.
Isn’t it exhausting to listen to?
Of all role models, I mostly admire the ones who’ve been able to stick to their passion for years and years. The ones who stuck it out, decided over and over that, nope, it’s not time to quit just yet.
It’s beautiful. To be able to continue on – that’s not for everyone. And a gift.
Who hasn’t had to end many things throughout the years? Often not by choice. And often because the body decided it was time.
Allow it to slip like a piece of cool silk, easy, without trying to grab on. A happier ending, especially for others around. While opening up so many other possibilities.
That was a lot of rambling. Not really the style of this site. Nothing to tie up the end of the post with either. Back to horses.
Late morning pictures.
Late, but too early to get up. No one came to say Hello. Is it still called Catching In Pasture, if you have to go allthe way down there, making that “possible-cookie-crinkle” in the pocket just to get them to stand?