Out on the trail
On Friday I went out on the kind of ride that is the reason we own horses.
Heading out onto the fire break, the sun painting everything up brightly.
Our shadow on the ground.
Ascending sunwards, the perfect place for a fast canter.
Thursday's storm winds had stripped most of the leaves from the trees, but one birch had held on obstinately, standing out like a candle on the heath.
A grey mane and a winter sun.
I like trying to capture the difference in light so that it looks a bit as though Iris has been photoshopped into the picture.
After that ride I was in a super happy mood and went off to teach - actually mostly to put some work in with my student's horse, who has been making some great progress but after a big jump forward during the previous session went through the worst bucking I have seen from her and then reared vertically, at which point I bailed rather than risk her flipping on me. I did a little more groundwork and then got some nice quiet work from her after that, but it was a shame because it put something of a damper on an otherwise excellent day.
Today I finally persuaded herecirm to go for a ride on Iris and my mare was impeccably behaved throughout, very nearly.
Heading down into the village.
Out of the clear blue sky, like some descending valkyrie in pink hi-vis.
The birches and clear blue sky made this part a little bit like riding into a Victorian watercolour painting, something that might be on the cover of a Hardy novel. Except for the traffic noise from the dual carriageway beside the common at any rate. I think this time has a lot to commend it, but I would love to be able to hear how these familiar places sounded a hundred years ago, just to be able to remember it.
My attempt to get a different angle for this photo meant it came out a bit like stalker-cam footage.
Making their way off into the woods. Iris was somewhat vexed by the presence of swans just before this. I think she suffers a general perplexity regarding the existence and meaning of waterfowl.
Or possibly she wants to be a water animal herself and feels they are encroaching.
I just really like the way this shows off her dapples.
Starting up the homeward hill. Iris was a little hurried up here and after a short trot ( and canter ) herecirm asked her to stop, which she wasn't keen on, the to come back towards me ( and away from home ) at which point she put in a pretty serious bucking fit. Sari rode through it and was fine, but it was a real shame because Iris had been so good up to that point, and pretty much was the rest of the time too.
Iris has some chill out time in which we wait until she can stand nicely and not be all wiggly and hyperactive.
Two forms of transport, a hundred years apart, similar colour scheme. The church would I suppose have seen more horses than cars in the nine hundred years it has stood here.
My mare, very nearly a proper riding horse.
Heading out onto the fire break, the sun painting everything up brightly.
Our shadow on the ground.
Ascending sunwards, the perfect place for a fast canter.
Thursday's storm winds had stripped most of the leaves from the trees, but one birch had held on obstinately, standing out like a candle on the heath.
A grey mane and a winter sun.
I like trying to capture the difference in light so that it looks a bit as though Iris has been photoshopped into the picture.
After that ride I was in a super happy mood and went off to teach - actually mostly to put some work in with my student's horse, who has been making some great progress but after a big jump forward during the previous session went through the worst bucking I have seen from her and then reared vertically, at which point I bailed rather than risk her flipping on me. I did a little more groundwork and then got some nice quiet work from her after that, but it was a shame because it put something of a damper on an otherwise excellent day.
Today I finally persuaded herecirm to go for a ride on Iris and my mare was impeccably behaved throughout, very nearly.
Heading down into the village.
Out of the clear blue sky, like some descending valkyrie in pink hi-vis.
The birches and clear blue sky made this part a little bit like riding into a Victorian watercolour painting, something that might be on the cover of a Hardy novel. Except for the traffic noise from the dual carriageway beside the common at any rate. I think this time has a lot to commend it, but I would love to be able to hear how these familiar places sounded a hundred years ago, just to be able to remember it.
My attempt to get a different angle for this photo meant it came out a bit like stalker-cam footage.
Making their way off into the woods. Iris was somewhat vexed by the presence of swans just before this. I think she suffers a general perplexity regarding the existence and meaning of waterfowl.
Or possibly she wants to be a water animal herself and feels they are encroaching.
I just really like the way this shows off her dapples.
Starting up the homeward hill. Iris was a little hurried up here and after a short trot ( and canter ) herecirm asked her to stop, which she wasn't keen on, the to come back towards me ( and away from home ) at which point she put in a pretty serious bucking fit. Sari rode through it and was fine, but it was a real shame because Iris had been so good up to that point, and pretty much was the rest of the time too.
Iris has some chill out time in which we wait until she can stand nicely and not be all wiggly and hyperactive.
Two forms of transport, a hundred years apart, similar colour scheme. The church would I suppose have seen more horses than cars in the nine hundred years it has stood here.
My mare, very nearly a proper riding horse.