Kensington Stables

Had a great lesson today. The facilities at this stable are, uh, a little primitive (the ring is absolutely tiny) but the horses are in great shape and Helen, our instructor today, seems very conscientious. We rode out to Prospect Park today where their ring was--they gave me one of their more challenging horses, Tonka, who definitely had a mind of his own. He was about 15 hands high--bigger than I'm used to but not too big. They kept telling me I wouldn't need to use much leg on him (that is, prod him much to trot or canter); Sanjina had given me a crop which they didn't want me to use. (Fine by me, I don't like crops.) His trot was a DREAM, like buttah, it was so smooth.

(I had a funny incident walking to the train in my neighborhood--I was wearing my britches with sneakers (my boots were in my gym bag) and a guy in the courtyard looked at me and said with a smile "hit a home run!" So funny--I just smiled back and said thanks.)

We worked his trot and took some rails. He was energetic except that he had a tendency to get lazy on some of his trots in the ring--I had to use a TON of leg on him to keep him moving. As we were going back to the barn, walking through the park, we crossed a roadway where bikers and roller bladers were whizzing by. We were crossing and I was in the rear--some stupid trashy morons, on their bikes, started yelling at the horses and making sharp loud noises. Tonka freaked out and started spooking and I had to pull him under control. Poor little thing. Morons--do you not see that this is a large animal who, if he flips out, could hurt not only me but YOU?

So I'm taking another lesson this weekend. I can't resist!

I am such a dork. I admit it.

Hey, if Frederick Richard Pickersgill can do it...

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Orsino and Viola

Two fireflies, shimmering in a sphere--
One on the ground, one circling in the air.
His lunar gaze restlessly scans Illyr
Seeking a consort proud, a queen divine
To crown with jewels rare and verses fine.
His shrouded mate yearns for a simpler prize--
A circlet frail, of bones and eglantine.

Seaward she waits, beneath a mirror darkly
Past delicate reefs of wit, disguise and guile
Through clouded waters, opal depths of brine,
Her green and loyal heart awaits below,
Sounding a cadence sweet and sure and whole.
Her song cannot be drown'd; untam'd, it must--
It will be heard, it swims like newborn soul,
Luminous as the winged glow at dusk
Amid the grass, to now await the night
Flickering tender, a soft and steady sign.
'Til now the one above espies her light,
And mimics with his own response sublime
A melancholy echo to her shine.

One on the ground, one answering above,
Two fireflies in unison--one love.