Even in the half light of 6:00 am the precipitation was quite clearly in the form of flakes. Not fluffy and floating but wet and falling heavily on my purple robe. Actually not so much a robe but one of those fleece bags where your feet just barely stick out through holes in the bottom. My husband refers to it as my grape suit. Lily, my 6 month old Yorkie, wasn't thrilled either. Most mornings she trots around happily wanting me to chase her to bring her back inside. Have you ever tried running in a grape suit? Happily, today she did the squat and dash for home in 10 seconds flat.
A little later, taking our customary walk through the woods with both dogs we commented on how beautiful a inch or so of snow is on the newly fallen leaves. It emphasizes the change in seasons with skiing just a few weeks away.
All summer, horses have resided in our fields. They belong to a nearby riding stable which closed for the season about 3 weeks ago. The temporary fencing came down and 'our' horses were gone for another year. Imagine our surprise on returning from the walk to see 6 horses happily grazing once more in the field, sans fence. It seems they wanted to spend just one more time under the apple tree before being shipped to their winter quarters. Are these a new breed of homing ponies?
Now that brings to mind one of those classic moments that tickled my funny bone:
The year was circa 1975 and I was teaching riding here in Stowe. A brand new rider was preparing to mount after listening carefully to my instructions. "Put your foot in the stirrup, grab a handful of mane and swing your leg over the saddle", I chanted. She hesitated and then asked, "does it matter which foot you use?" "Not at all', I replied "as long as you don't mind which way you face!"
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