Patches of snow still sat high on the north facing slopes of the mountains amidst the spectacular scenery of north Wales - with picturesque rolling hills of outstanding natural beauty & long valleys that roamed between high rugged mountains, where mists gathered & swirled amongst rocky outcrops, snowcapped in winter, the bleakness adding drama that sweeps to the sea.
Along the coast on the banks of the Menai Straits & opposite the Isle of Anglesey, Caernarfon Castle north west of Wales, was built by King Edward I of England. He began the medieval building in 1283, replacing the original motte-and-bailey castle in the town, where originally a Roman fort stood nearby. The castle's imposing size & with the Eagle Tower being most impressive, its easy access to the sea made it a fortified strength in the late 13th century. It was where Edward II was born in April 1284, later meeting a grim end in September 1327 in Berkeley Castle.
The castle stands in Gwynedd & Madog ap Llywelyn sacked the town & castle in 1294 when he lead a rebellion against the English.
Richard II who had seized the Lancastrian estates after the death of his father Edward the Black Prince, was deposed by Henry Bolingbroke when, after the death of his father John of Gaunt in 1399, succeeded as King. He was more energetic & conciliatory than Richard overcoming all opponents. Richard died in Pontefract Castle under mysterious circumstances.
Owain Glyndwr was the last native Welshman to bear the title of Prince of Wales, (self-proclaimed) instigating an unsuccessful revolt against English rule & that of Henry IV of England from 1400. The last documented sight of him was in 1412 & his fate remains a mystery.
Relations between the English & Welsh began diminishing during the Tudor dynasty when castles fell into disrepair.
Charles, the present Prince of Wales was invested at Caernarfon Castle in 1969.
The countryside between Caernarfon & Conwy is stunning before approaching the magnificence of Conwy castle, once the site of a Cistercian monastery favoured by Welsh princes. It occupies a prominent position on a coastal ridge of north Wales, built from local & imported stone by Edward I of England during his conquest of Wales & became part of the walled town of Conwy.
It withstood the siege by Madog ap Llywelyn in the winter of 1294-1295 & Richard II used it as a temporary haven in 1399. Owain Glyndwr held it for several months in 1401.
The castle is considered to be one of the finest late 13th & early 14th century examples of military architecture with its exterior curtain wall & towers & was completed in 1287.
It surrended to the Parliamentary armies during the English Civil war in 1646, after holding out by forces loyal to Charles I. It finally fell into complete ruin in 1665 when its remaining lead & iron were stripped off.
The town of Conwy is charming with several different periods depicted in its architecture, but the castle still remains a prominent force within the town & climbing the ramparts & many staircases, its long history is written within the high walls overlooking the sea. The surrounding mountains & hills of Wales lie scattered on the near horizons, their beauty & rugged splendor prominent, yet reflecting their own magical individuality & presence.
Travelling south east from the north coast, between Chester in the north & Hereford further south, the town of Shrewsbury, a Saxon name, extended as far back as 901 & once a centre for the wool trade. Its half timbered Abbot's house on Butcher Row from 1500 still stands, as do several other fine buildings of the period.
Shrewsbury stands on a meander of the River Severn & is nine miles from the Welsh border.
The first Earl of Shrewsbury, a relative of William I, Roger de Montgomery built a castle in 1074 where the present one stands.
After 1066 Walter de Lacy, a trusted member of the household of William FitzOsbern, was granted land in order to keep his loyalty along the English-Welsh border in South Shropshire. His two sons Roger & Hugh were responsible for the early building of Ludlow Castle which occupies a commanding position high above the river Teme.
Over the centuries the castle had passed into many different hands, bearing a long history of ownership.
The round tower dates from the 12th century, but in 1135 after Henry I died, the number of Welsh raids increased & following Henry's death, the grandson of William I, Stephen of Blois seized the throne even though it was promised to Henry's daughter Empress Matilda.
By the late 15th century Ludlow castle was under ownership of Richard, Duke of York & being a major base during the Wars of the Roses, was taken by the Lancastrians, then back into York hands in 1461.
Edward IV sent his son Edward, the Prince of Wales to live at Ludlow castle when young. He was then sent into virtual imprisonment in the Tower of London by his uncle, King Richard III of England & joined by his brother Richard. The young prince was never crowned & together with his younger brother, disappeared, presumed murdered throwing suspicion on their uncle.
Ludlow now a pleasant market town, lies close to the Welsh border, forming part of the Welsh Marches. In the Middle Ages the castle formed a strategic stronghold for controlling the Welsh Borders. The de Lacy family had control of the castle mainly during the early part of the 12th century & up until the 14th century. It later became the possession of the Mortimers through marriage.
Hereford being a cathedral city, lies on the River Wye south of Ludlow & the Mappa Mundi drawn on a single sheet of vellum is hung on display within the cathedral. It is believed to be the largest remaining medieval map still in existence. The writing is in black ink with several other colours used to depict hundreds of towns & dozens of biblical events. Several colours were used to enhance the animals & plants, people & scenes from classical mythology. Its circular presentation includes Great Britain drawn at the northwestern border.
There had been around 400 castles built in Wales,100 of which still stand mainly in ruins, many being constructed in commanding positions where they fulfilled strategic purposes. Many too have returned to nature & become no more than a ditch, mound or earthwork.
There will always be a long & intriguing history associated with Wales & the countryside, together with its people uniquely standing with pride & patriotism. This beautiful country, rugged in places particularly in the mountainous north, the rivers & forests combined with towns, villages & a coast of stunning proportions, are all part of its national identity & remain part of the United Kingdom.
Wednesday 26 June 2013
Saturday 22 June 2013
Florence - A Renaissance city.
The train left Rome on time. It slipped quietly out of Termini station heading for Florence & possibly on to Milan or Venice. The weather was bright & clear sometime in September.
Countryside passed swiftly, undulating in places where clumps of woodlands intermingled with large fields & a scattering of farm houses. Pine trees grew infrequently, the same as those grown in Rome, with spreading dark green heads & narrow trunks that bent or remained straight, resisting the wind. Several large hills appeared, dipping into deep valleys as the sun climbed higher, filtering through thin layers of scudding pale grey & pink-tipped clouds, floating high against a blue sky.
The train travelled smoothly toward Florence, the center of Italian Renaissance & once the seat of the powerful Medici family & with the outskirts of the city appearing, it pulled into the long Stazione di Santa Maria Novella on time, named after the Gothic church standing nearby.
Florence is a beautiful city, with a history of many artists, sculptors & architects, of galleries & museums, grouped comfortably within walking distance; where Grand Dukes maintained power, Kings ruled & resided. Compacted into some may think, an elegance of narrow streets & wider piazzas, buildings of warm browns & ochre, waited to be explored.
Many bridges span the Arno river of this Tuscan region, which is second in importance after the Tiber, flowing through the heart of Rome. The Ponte Vecchio, is a Medieval stone closed-spandrel segmental arch, with shops of mainly art dealers, jewelers & souvenir sellers each side.
A bridge first appeared in a document in 996 AD, destroyed by a flood in 1117, but after a reconstruction of stone, the bridge was again swept away by floods in 1333.
The economic concept of 'bankruptcy' originated here when a merchant unable to pay his debts, a table on which his wares were sold, was physically broken by soldiers & this resulted in the practice of 'bancorotto'!
On the south side of the River Arno stands the vast Palazza Pitti, (or Pitti Palace), close to Ponte Vecchio, formerly the residence of the grand dukes of Tuscany & later the King of Italy, built in the second half of the 15th century. Caravaggio's Sleeping Cupid & Raphael's La Donna Velata from the Medici collection are housed there amongst many other fine Italian works of art.
Palazzo Medici Riccardi's construction started in 1445 of Renaissance architecture for Cosimo de'Medici, with it's sumptuous interior consisting of almost decadent wall & ceiling frescoes. The accumulation of wealth of the Medici family included such items as silverware & ornaments of gold & silk, with the furniture, heavy in detail & decoration, was endless. The main hall is vast, containing around the edges, large marble statues depicting opulent design & interpretation.
Michelangelo's magnificent (biblical) David, sculptured in Carrara marble, was moved to the Accademia di Belle Arti Firenze, (Accademia Gallery), in 1873 & stands over five meters high. A Renaissance masterpiece, created between 1501 and 1504 & such a monumental achievement, it is evidence of a supreme comprehension of the male human form, proving an ability to achieve a balanced perspective of grace, strength & athleticism. Under the patronage of the Medici, Renaissance sculpture flourished in Florence.
This Tuscan city has a unique charm of its own, one that the enormity of Rome may lack. It was a center for Renaissance art & Brunelleschi (1377-1446), was one of the foremost architects & engineers of this Italian period. His other accomplishments included that of mathematics, engineering & sculpture.
Florence Cathedral (The Duomo), began in 1296 in the Gothic style, the Basilica di Santa Maria del Fiore, the dome being engineered by Filippo Brunelleschi, dominates the skyline of the city. The interior exudes a quiet peace & unadorned with lavish decoration in comparison with some churches in Rome.
Looking down from the perimeter of the dome, the Tuscan hills are not far away & the rooftops charmingly terracotta in nature, earthy & not lacking in character. The exterior of the Cathedral is faced with polychrome marble panels in various shades of pinks & greens, bordered by white & the basilica is one of Italy's largest churches. The dome was once the largest in the world. It still remains the largest brick dome in the world & is part of the UNESCO Heritage Site.
Spending a little time strolling across the Ponte Vecchio spanning the River Arno, is an experience within itself, butcher shops once inhabited the small buildings, but now there are many jeweler's shops each side (with small interior spiral staircases), art dealers, souvenir sellers, some with heavy carved dark wood paneling.
From the banks of the river it is possible to see the haphazard supporting structures under the shops that hang precariously over the river, many with rotting & patched up timbers & a few steel supports added in a vein attempt to keep them from tumbling into the river. But perhaps with the next intense flood, the entire bridge would wash away downstream.
There is an abundance of main & backstreet shops selling quality leather goods, which are often made locally, the traders being kept in reasonable business with shoppers from all over the world breathing in the rich smell of leather near the open doorways.
The quiet vibrant atmosphere of Florence, compared to that of Rome, is significantly aesthetic, due to its size & comparative ease of travel within the city. It's many narrow alleyways & streets lend themselves to a softness of browns & light blue colours appearing to reflect off the ageing buildings, with shadows falling in places, exuding a warm glow in early morning & late afternoon. There is a subtlety of light moving throughout the seasons giving Florence, with its galleries, palaces, churches & many restaurants, a unique individuality, a timelessness. It's beauty & history are many centuries old relating to the lives of artists, sculptures, architects & the many people who ruled from this city.
Countryside passed swiftly, undulating in places where clumps of woodlands intermingled with large fields & a scattering of farm houses. Pine trees grew infrequently, the same as those grown in Rome, with spreading dark green heads & narrow trunks that bent or remained straight, resisting the wind. Several large hills appeared, dipping into deep valleys as the sun climbed higher, filtering through thin layers of scudding pale grey & pink-tipped clouds, floating high against a blue sky.
The train travelled smoothly toward Florence, the center of Italian Renaissance & once the seat of the powerful Medici family & with the outskirts of the city appearing, it pulled into the long Stazione di Santa Maria Novella on time, named after the Gothic church standing nearby.
Florence is a beautiful city, with a history of many artists, sculptors & architects, of galleries & museums, grouped comfortably within walking distance; where Grand Dukes maintained power, Kings ruled & resided. Compacted into some may think, an elegance of narrow streets & wider piazzas, buildings of warm browns & ochre, waited to be explored.
Many bridges span the Arno river of this Tuscan region, which is second in importance after the Tiber, flowing through the heart of Rome. The Ponte Vecchio, is a Medieval stone closed-spandrel segmental arch, with shops of mainly art dealers, jewelers & souvenir sellers each side.
A bridge first appeared in a document in 996 AD, destroyed by a flood in 1117, but after a reconstruction of stone, the bridge was again swept away by floods in 1333.
The economic concept of 'bankruptcy' originated here when a merchant unable to pay his debts, a table on which his wares were sold, was physically broken by soldiers & this resulted in the practice of 'bancorotto'!
On the south side of the River Arno stands the vast Palazza Pitti, (or Pitti Palace), close to Ponte Vecchio, formerly the residence of the grand dukes of Tuscany & later the King of Italy, built in the second half of the 15th century. Caravaggio's Sleeping Cupid & Raphael's La Donna Velata from the Medici collection are housed there amongst many other fine Italian works of art.
Palazzo Medici Riccardi's construction started in 1445 of Renaissance architecture for Cosimo de'Medici, with it's sumptuous interior consisting of almost decadent wall & ceiling frescoes. The accumulation of wealth of the Medici family included such items as silverware & ornaments of gold & silk, with the furniture, heavy in detail & decoration, was endless. The main hall is vast, containing around the edges, large marble statues depicting opulent design & interpretation.
Michelangelo's magnificent (biblical) David, sculptured in Carrara marble, was moved to the Accademia di Belle Arti Firenze, (Accademia Gallery), in 1873 & stands over five meters high. A Renaissance masterpiece, created between 1501 and 1504 & such a monumental achievement, it is evidence of a supreme comprehension of the male human form, proving an ability to achieve a balanced perspective of grace, strength & athleticism. Under the patronage of the Medici, Renaissance sculpture flourished in Florence.
This Tuscan city has a unique charm of its own, one that the enormity of Rome may lack. It was a center for Renaissance art & Brunelleschi (1377-1446), was one of the foremost architects & engineers of this Italian period. His other accomplishments included that of mathematics, engineering & sculpture.
Florence Cathedral (The Duomo), began in 1296 in the Gothic style, the Basilica di Santa Maria del Fiore, the dome being engineered by Filippo Brunelleschi, dominates the skyline of the city. The interior exudes a quiet peace & unadorned with lavish decoration in comparison with some churches in Rome.
Looking down from the perimeter of the dome, the Tuscan hills are not far away & the rooftops charmingly terracotta in nature, earthy & not lacking in character. The exterior of the Cathedral is faced with polychrome marble panels in various shades of pinks & greens, bordered by white & the basilica is one of Italy's largest churches. The dome was once the largest in the world. It still remains the largest brick dome in the world & is part of the UNESCO Heritage Site.
Spending a little time strolling across the Ponte Vecchio spanning the River Arno, is an experience within itself, butcher shops once inhabited the small buildings, but now there are many jeweler's shops each side (with small interior spiral staircases), art dealers, souvenir sellers, some with heavy carved dark wood paneling.
From the banks of the river it is possible to see the haphazard supporting structures under the shops that hang precariously over the river, many with rotting & patched up timbers & a few steel supports added in a vein attempt to keep them from tumbling into the river. But perhaps with the next intense flood, the entire bridge would wash away downstream.
There is an abundance of main & backstreet shops selling quality leather goods, which are often made locally, the traders being kept in reasonable business with shoppers from all over the world breathing in the rich smell of leather near the open doorways.
The quiet vibrant atmosphere of Florence, compared to that of Rome, is significantly aesthetic, due to its size & comparative ease of travel within the city. It's many narrow alleyways & streets lend themselves to a softness of browns & light blue colours appearing to reflect off the ageing buildings, with shadows falling in places, exuding a warm glow in early morning & late afternoon. There is a subtlety of light moving throughout the seasons giving Florence, with its galleries, palaces, churches & many restaurants, a unique individuality, a timelessness. It's beauty & history are many centuries old relating to the lives of artists, sculptures, architects & the many people who ruled from this city.
Wednesday 19 June 2013
Encounters with animals!
During the early summer, which began cool with constant rain showers, Emily had experienced an unusual feeling as she approached the stable block at the bottom of her garden. It only catered for two horses at the same time, but she had always loved dairy cows & remembering when only young, driving with her parents through the countryside, she had suddenly shouted 'stop!' Her bewildered father driving the family car at the time, jammed on the brakes looking quite worried.
Emily smiled to herself as she looked back to that day noticing several dairy cows grazing in a field beside the road & thinking how fascinating & pretty they looked with their large brown eyes & long lashes. She had spent a little time visiting a dairy farm when quite young & loved the smell of it, the lambs being born, fresh cut hay heady & sweet, cows & sheep roaming meadows & fields, horses grazing, flicking their tales to rid themselves of pesky insects in summer.
Her father had looked puzzled, not knowing the reason his daughter had called out in such a forthright manner. Within no time at all, she was out of the car, dashing across to where a herd of dairy cows were peacefully grazing. Standing on the gate, talking to them, admiring their huge bodies & kindly looking eyes, they would curiously wander over & with long rasping tongues, lick her fingers. She laughed at the sight, feeling their tongues wrap around her fingers.
As the memory of that day flooded her thoughts, Emily peering over the top of a stable door, an idea started taking root. I wonder if...she thought, well perhaps not...she continued. She was on her way to visit Ben, her long time farmer friend who lived just down the lane. She often found herself there, standing on the gate, leaning over looking for him for one reason or other, or in the farmhouse. Ben milked his herd of dairy cows twice a day, unless Andy, his farm hand was there helping out.
The day though cool, dawned bright & the sun warming Emily's face as she noticed a bumble bee buzzing through a few flowers blooming low near the ground. The air smelled fresh, heady with early roses, the grass sweet with summer fragrance. Several birds chirped noisily nearby as they flitted across the garden, heading for the branches of an apple tree, while the early summer played havoc with the weeds in the vegetable patch.
As Emily was about to drive her car down to the farm, as she needed to speak to Ben about one or two matters, she glanced once again at the empty stable block. It wasn't often that her horse Apollo was housed there, as he spent most of his time at the farm.
As the car wound its way through the country lanes, Emily's mind would not be still. She tossed a few ideas around her brain, thinking & reasoning while the car continued on down the hill. She was pulling into Ben's driveway & suddenly smiled & knew the one main reason she was visiting Ben today.
The milking shed door clattered open just as she approached the end of the track leading to it. Ben was wiping his hands & looked up as Emily arrived at the gate she often stood on to chat to him.
'Morning Em!' Ben sometimes called her this when he was having a good day. He glanced over to her as he came through the open doorway.
'Hello Ben, all finished for now?
'It seems so,' nodded Ben. 'Not a bad day is it?' looking up at the sky, he closed the door behind him & joined Emily on the other side of the gate.
'I have something I want to ask you Ben,' smiling at him & frowning a little as she started biting her bottom lip.
'Ask away then, don't keep me in suspense all day.'
'I've been thinking.' said Emily.
'Oh yes, & what might that be about I wonder?'
'Well, you see, I've always liked cows as you may already have guessed, & well...'
'Spit it out girl, I have chores to attend to' Ben smiling at her now, with a curious questioning look on his face.
'You know that my two stables are not used that often, only on fairly rare occasions?'
'Yeah' Ben replied slowly.
Emily continued, 'what would you say if I suggested I rear two of your calves & keep them in one of my stables?'
'Oh, is that all!' Ben smiled. 'Thought it was going to be something quite serious, judging by the look on your face, frowning like that! Of course you can, when would you like to start?' Ben asked.
'Oh really!' Emily quite surprised at the ease at which it took convincing Ben. 'I thought you wouldn't be at all happy with the idea.'
'Why wouldn't I? It's just a case of when & gathering a few things together for you. You will need some straw for bedding & extra buckets & you will soon learn how to mix their milk ration each time. Easy really. What about I bring them up tomorrow morning in the horse box after I've done the milking?'
'Excellent!' said Emily, smiling & feeling quite relieved. 'That would be just fine Ben. I'll expect you then. There were one or two other things I wanted to mention, but now they have quite gone from my head.'
Ben was looking amused & shaking his head slightly as he walked back to the milking parlour before starting on his chores.
'See you then Emily' he called, disappearing through the doorway.
'Thanks Ben,' Emily replied, walking back to her car feeling happy & light hearted about tomorrow.
The next day thankfully, dawned bright & almost warm, as Emily stepped into the garden. She knew Ben would be arriving soon & wanted to see if all was in readiness for the two calves she would be rearing for a while. Looking in at the end stable, she was satisfied it was cleared out enough in readiness for them.
Ah, she thought, this will be fun, I'm looking forward to my two little friends. Emily also thought a slight pang of apprehension as she had never undertaken anything quite like this before. Can't be much to it. Just use common sense, that's all. Anything I need to know, I'll ask Ben.
Not long after, Ben brought the two calves & jumping out from the Land Rover, he carried the first of two straw bales to lay as a bed in the end stable. Then together they carefully herded the two small animals through the doorway, Emily shutting & bolting the door carefully after them.
'Oh, they are so pretty,' Emily said.
'Just calves Em, nothing to get excited about!'
'But you are use to them, these are my first & I think they're pretty, even if you don't!' Emily retorted going over to the dark brown one with a white blaze on her forehead.
'Oh well, if you think so then, but now I just need to tell you how much to feed them & when, then I'm off. They always appear to want more than their ration, but you have to be strict with them. Being young, they just want to go on sucking after the milk has disappeared. That's natural. You'll get use to it.'
Ben told Emily a few more details, then said he had to get back to the farm. He had supplied her with several things including two new buckets & a teat to help them get started. Also the formula with which to feed them.
Emily was still stroking the dark brown calf with huge dark eyelashes & said to Ben. 'I'm going to call this one Sara & the other one Sam. What do you think Ben?'
'I don't mind what you call them' he said smiling & pulling a face at Emily. 'They won't mind either, as long as they are fed regularly. If you will be okay from now on, I'd best be getting back. The vet is coming soon & I have to get Tigre in.
'Nothing too serious I hope Ben?'
'No, I hope not, but think he must have banged his near foreleg on something & I want to be sure everything is well with him.
'Right then Ben, I may be down tomorrow after I've fed these two,' she said, smiling down at her new acquisitions.
'See you Em, perhaps tomorrow,' Ben waved disappearing back to the Land Rover.
That evening, Emily had looked forward to feeding the calves for the first time. She gathered the milk mixture & prepared it in the buckets as Ben had instructed. She shut herself in the stable & showed the calves where the milk was, coaxing them with her voice. Crouching low to Sara first, she dipped her clean fingers in the milk & offered them to Sara to suck on. The little calf soon got the idea, as Emily led her fingers to the milk in the bucket. The calf was drinking the milk very quickly & when it had gone, tried licking the bottom of the bucket.
'That's all I'm afraid, you aren't allowed to have anymore,' she pouted. Poor little mite, now I know what Ben meant.'
She did the same for Sam, the other calf who was anxious for its milk. 'I'm coming, I'm coming,' she smiled at Sam. 'Your turn now.'
When Sam got to the end of her milk ration, she seemed fretful & wanted more. Suddenly she up-ended the bucket, tossing it high enough to catch Emily square on the bridge of her nose.
'Ouch!' she said scowling at the young calf. 'That's not cricket you know! Ben said nothing about THAT.' Rubbing her nose & trying to pacify the calf at the same time with her fingers in its mouth, she added, 'I suppose I'll have to watch out for flying buckets from now on, won't I?'
The next morning bloomed fresh with a promise of a little warmth, as the sun shone brightly through the kitchen window, flooding onto the table where Emily was finishing a late breakfast. The bridge of her nose had bled & felt sore this morning. I suppose that's all part of it, she thought, gazing out of the window & watching a robin hopping around the garden. A light breeze was sighing through the apple trees & the sun's rays were penetrating softly through the new leaves of a shrub. She had already fed the two calves & needed to see Ben this morning about something. She washed out her cup & made her way to the car.
Pulling in to the farm, she saw Ben talking to Lizzie, her other friend who lived not far away. They had all been friends for many years.
Getting out of the car, Emily walked over to her two friends, smiling at them when Lizzie said, 'I believe you are now the proud owner of two new calves!'
'Not owner, Lizzie, just rearing them for a while. But I must say that although young still, they are very strong!'
Emily related to both Lizzie & Ben, the episode with the bucket. 'And look what that little mite did to me!' she grimaced, indicating the bump on her nose where it was bruised & had bled, then added, 'well, it's not the end of the world is it? Ben did warn me about certain things, but not necessarily everything!'
You'll soon get use to it,' said Ben.
'What! Do you mean this is a common occurrence then? Think I'd do well to keep those buckets firmly on the floor from now on. Don't want a bloody nose each time. Perhaps I can wedge them into the corner of the stable a bit more.'
'Hold the bucket with both hands, silly,' replied Ben'
'How do I do that while I'm trying to coax them to drink at the same time?'
Lizzie chipped in & said. 'Don't worry Emily, you'll be fine. It won't take much time to get things running smoothly.'
'Hope so Lizzie. That bucket hurt when it shot up & hit me. I didn't expect it, but I'll be aware of flying buckets from now on!' she said, frowning a little.
As the summer progressed the calves grew & before it was time for them to be returned to the farm, two children living close by had sometimes come to play with them. The calves by now being very tolerant of human company, were great with the children & very placid. Emily made sure the stable door was always shut tight & kept a close eye on the children when they were with the calves.The children sometimes sat close to them admiring their long eyelashes putting their fingers out for the calves to lick, bringing squeals of laughter.
'You had best wash those hands before you return home,' she smiled.
Over a couple of years Emily had reared another pair of young calves she called Jack & Jill. She had become quite an expert at looking after them & when she had her horse Apollo in the stable next door, she found that the calves were good company for him. Apollo would hang his head over the divider built between the two stables. Stooping as low as possible, gazing at the two calves, as if communicating with them, he would pace a little from one front foot to the other.
Some years later Sara, who had always been Emily's favourite calf, still retained a very dark brown colour, with a blaze on her forehead & Ben had told her that Sara was his most productive milking cow. She had produced many gallons of rich creamy milk & calves of her own which usually turned out like their mother, with huge brown eyes & long dark lashes.
Emily smiled to herself as she looked back to that day noticing several dairy cows grazing in a field beside the road & thinking how fascinating & pretty they looked with their large brown eyes & long lashes. She had spent a little time visiting a dairy farm when quite young & loved the smell of it, the lambs being born, fresh cut hay heady & sweet, cows & sheep roaming meadows & fields, horses grazing, flicking their tales to rid themselves of pesky insects in summer.
Her father had looked puzzled, not knowing the reason his daughter had called out in such a forthright manner. Within no time at all, she was out of the car, dashing across to where a herd of dairy cows were peacefully grazing. Standing on the gate, talking to them, admiring their huge bodies & kindly looking eyes, they would curiously wander over & with long rasping tongues, lick her fingers. She laughed at the sight, feeling their tongues wrap around her fingers.
As the memory of that day flooded her thoughts, Emily peering over the top of a stable door, an idea started taking root. I wonder if...she thought, well perhaps not...she continued. She was on her way to visit Ben, her long time farmer friend who lived just down the lane. She often found herself there, standing on the gate, leaning over looking for him for one reason or other, or in the farmhouse. Ben milked his herd of dairy cows twice a day, unless Andy, his farm hand was there helping out.
The day though cool, dawned bright & the sun warming Emily's face as she noticed a bumble bee buzzing through a few flowers blooming low near the ground. The air smelled fresh, heady with early roses, the grass sweet with summer fragrance. Several birds chirped noisily nearby as they flitted across the garden, heading for the branches of an apple tree, while the early summer played havoc with the weeds in the vegetable patch.
As Emily was about to drive her car down to the farm, as she needed to speak to Ben about one or two matters, she glanced once again at the empty stable block. It wasn't often that her horse Apollo was housed there, as he spent most of his time at the farm.
As the car wound its way through the country lanes, Emily's mind would not be still. She tossed a few ideas around her brain, thinking & reasoning while the car continued on down the hill. She was pulling into Ben's driveway & suddenly smiled & knew the one main reason she was visiting Ben today.
The milking shed door clattered open just as she approached the end of the track leading to it. Ben was wiping his hands & looked up as Emily arrived at the gate she often stood on to chat to him.
'Morning Em!' Ben sometimes called her this when he was having a good day. He glanced over to her as he came through the open doorway.
'Hello Ben, all finished for now?
'It seems so,' nodded Ben. 'Not a bad day is it?' looking up at the sky, he closed the door behind him & joined Emily on the other side of the gate.
'I have something I want to ask you Ben,' smiling at him & frowning a little as she started biting her bottom lip.
'Ask away then, don't keep me in suspense all day.'
'I've been thinking.' said Emily.
'Oh yes, & what might that be about I wonder?'
'Well, you see, I've always liked cows as you may already have guessed, & well...'
'Spit it out girl, I have chores to attend to' Ben smiling at her now, with a curious questioning look on his face.
'You know that my two stables are not used that often, only on fairly rare occasions?'
'Yeah' Ben replied slowly.
Emily continued, 'what would you say if I suggested I rear two of your calves & keep them in one of my stables?'
'Oh, is that all!' Ben smiled. 'Thought it was going to be something quite serious, judging by the look on your face, frowning like that! Of course you can, when would you like to start?' Ben asked.
'Oh really!' Emily quite surprised at the ease at which it took convincing Ben. 'I thought you wouldn't be at all happy with the idea.'
'Why wouldn't I? It's just a case of when & gathering a few things together for you. You will need some straw for bedding & extra buckets & you will soon learn how to mix their milk ration each time. Easy really. What about I bring them up tomorrow morning in the horse box after I've done the milking?'
'Excellent!' said Emily, smiling & feeling quite relieved. 'That would be just fine Ben. I'll expect you then. There were one or two other things I wanted to mention, but now they have quite gone from my head.'
Ben was looking amused & shaking his head slightly as he walked back to the milking parlour before starting on his chores.
'See you then Emily' he called, disappearing through the doorway.
'Thanks Ben,' Emily replied, walking back to her car feeling happy & light hearted about tomorrow.
The next day thankfully, dawned bright & almost warm, as Emily stepped into the garden. She knew Ben would be arriving soon & wanted to see if all was in readiness for the two calves she would be rearing for a while. Looking in at the end stable, she was satisfied it was cleared out enough in readiness for them.
Ah, she thought, this will be fun, I'm looking forward to my two little friends. Emily also thought a slight pang of apprehension as she had never undertaken anything quite like this before. Can't be much to it. Just use common sense, that's all. Anything I need to know, I'll ask Ben.
Not long after, Ben brought the two calves & jumping out from the Land Rover, he carried the first of two straw bales to lay as a bed in the end stable. Then together they carefully herded the two small animals through the doorway, Emily shutting & bolting the door carefully after them.
'Oh, they are so pretty,' Emily said.
'Just calves Em, nothing to get excited about!'
'But you are use to them, these are my first & I think they're pretty, even if you don't!' Emily retorted going over to the dark brown one with a white blaze on her forehead.
'Oh well, if you think so then, but now I just need to tell you how much to feed them & when, then I'm off. They always appear to want more than their ration, but you have to be strict with them. Being young, they just want to go on sucking after the milk has disappeared. That's natural. You'll get use to it.'
Ben told Emily a few more details, then said he had to get back to the farm. He had supplied her with several things including two new buckets & a teat to help them get started. Also the formula with which to feed them.
Emily was still stroking the dark brown calf with huge dark eyelashes & said to Ben. 'I'm going to call this one Sara & the other one Sam. What do you think Ben?'
'I don't mind what you call them' he said smiling & pulling a face at Emily. 'They won't mind either, as long as they are fed regularly. If you will be okay from now on, I'd best be getting back. The vet is coming soon & I have to get Tigre in.
'Nothing too serious I hope Ben?'
'No, I hope not, but think he must have banged his near foreleg on something & I want to be sure everything is well with him.
'Right then Ben, I may be down tomorrow after I've fed these two,' she said, smiling down at her new acquisitions.
'See you Em, perhaps tomorrow,' Ben waved disappearing back to the Land Rover.
That evening, Emily had looked forward to feeding the calves for the first time. She gathered the milk mixture & prepared it in the buckets as Ben had instructed. She shut herself in the stable & showed the calves where the milk was, coaxing them with her voice. Crouching low to Sara first, she dipped her clean fingers in the milk & offered them to Sara to suck on. The little calf soon got the idea, as Emily led her fingers to the milk in the bucket. The calf was drinking the milk very quickly & when it had gone, tried licking the bottom of the bucket.
'That's all I'm afraid, you aren't allowed to have anymore,' she pouted. Poor little mite, now I know what Ben meant.'
She did the same for Sam, the other calf who was anxious for its milk. 'I'm coming, I'm coming,' she smiled at Sam. 'Your turn now.'
When Sam got to the end of her milk ration, she seemed fretful & wanted more. Suddenly she up-ended the bucket, tossing it high enough to catch Emily square on the bridge of her nose.
'Ouch!' she said scowling at the young calf. 'That's not cricket you know! Ben said nothing about THAT.' Rubbing her nose & trying to pacify the calf at the same time with her fingers in its mouth, she added, 'I suppose I'll have to watch out for flying buckets from now on, won't I?'
The next morning bloomed fresh with a promise of a little warmth, as the sun shone brightly through the kitchen window, flooding onto the table where Emily was finishing a late breakfast. The bridge of her nose had bled & felt sore this morning. I suppose that's all part of it, she thought, gazing out of the window & watching a robin hopping around the garden. A light breeze was sighing through the apple trees & the sun's rays were penetrating softly through the new leaves of a shrub. She had already fed the two calves & needed to see Ben this morning about something. She washed out her cup & made her way to the car.
Pulling in to the farm, she saw Ben talking to Lizzie, her other friend who lived not far away. They had all been friends for many years.
Getting out of the car, Emily walked over to her two friends, smiling at them when Lizzie said, 'I believe you are now the proud owner of two new calves!'
'Not owner, Lizzie, just rearing them for a while. But I must say that although young still, they are very strong!'
Emily related to both Lizzie & Ben, the episode with the bucket. 'And look what that little mite did to me!' she grimaced, indicating the bump on her nose where it was bruised & had bled, then added, 'well, it's not the end of the world is it? Ben did warn me about certain things, but not necessarily everything!'
You'll soon get use to it,' said Ben.
'What! Do you mean this is a common occurrence then? Think I'd do well to keep those buckets firmly on the floor from now on. Don't want a bloody nose each time. Perhaps I can wedge them into the corner of the stable a bit more.'
'Hold the bucket with both hands, silly,' replied Ben'
'How do I do that while I'm trying to coax them to drink at the same time?'
Lizzie chipped in & said. 'Don't worry Emily, you'll be fine. It won't take much time to get things running smoothly.'
'Hope so Lizzie. That bucket hurt when it shot up & hit me. I didn't expect it, but I'll be aware of flying buckets from now on!' she said, frowning a little.
As the summer progressed the calves grew & before it was time for them to be returned to the farm, two children living close by had sometimes come to play with them. The calves by now being very tolerant of human company, were great with the children & very placid. Emily made sure the stable door was always shut tight & kept a close eye on the children when they were with the calves.The children sometimes sat close to them admiring their long eyelashes putting their fingers out for the calves to lick, bringing squeals of laughter.
'You had best wash those hands before you return home,' she smiled.
Over a couple of years Emily had reared another pair of young calves she called Jack & Jill. She had become quite an expert at looking after them & when she had her horse Apollo in the stable next door, she found that the calves were good company for him. Apollo would hang his head over the divider built between the two stables. Stooping as low as possible, gazing at the two calves, as if communicating with them, he would pace a little from one front foot to the other.
Some years later Sara, who had always been Emily's favourite calf, still retained a very dark brown colour, with a blaze on her forehead & Ben had told her that Sara was his most productive milking cow. She had produced many gallons of rich creamy milk & calves of her own which usually turned out like their mother, with huge brown eyes & long dark lashes.
Sunday 16 June 2013
Foggy Morning
Upon the misty mountain high
trees tipped & tinged still be
fog lies low its darkness feeds
from tangled threads it weaves.
Birds perched upon the wire
shivered shaken feathers feel
nests coated cold still holds
sunrays lost & winter's fold.
Foggy foggy daylight come
resting on the grass afar
scattered jewels of colours shine
crystals lovely hidden in time.
Trees ghostlike hold your magic
steeped in wonder fog-wet dew
deep & dark the forest bears
secrets from a land yet fares.
Foggy foggy daylight come
your fingers dipped in earth
dank & moist cold as graves
lift your mantle from the fray.
trees tipped & tinged still be
fog lies low its darkness feeds
from tangled threads it weaves.
Birds perched upon the wire
shivered shaken feathers feel
nests coated cold still holds
sunrays lost & winter's fold.
Foggy foggy daylight come
resting on the grass afar
scattered jewels of colours shine
crystals lovely hidden in time.
Trees ghostlike hold your magic
steeped in wonder fog-wet dew
deep & dark the forest bears
secrets from a land yet fares.
Foggy foggy daylight come
your fingers dipped in earth
dank & moist cold as graves
lift your mantle from the fray.
Friday 14 June 2013
The calm before the storm
A small wren twitched its tail in quick motions as it flitted about the lower branches of a eucalypt. The tree looked half dead in places, but its leafy branches waved & bent with the breeze that blew across the park from a south westerly direction. The wren jumped around in a world of its own, unaware of the storm that brewed on the horizon. Dark blue-grey cumulus type clouds amassed, intermingled with thick white puffs of cotton-tipped layers, as the sun struggled to make its presence known in a vague easterly direction. The wren flew from one branch to another & was gone in a fluttering movement as quickly as it appeared, departing the loneliness of the tree's center.
A single magpie flew low across the path of the incoming storm, landing on a chimney pot & warbled to whoever might be listening.
Strengthening wind gusts played with the front of my hair & shivered my insides as I wrapped a scarf more firmly around my neck & walked on, glancing toward the ever thickening & darkening sky. This may not be a time to be out walking I thought, as a rumble of thunder sounded in the distance, warning of worse to come. The sun was completely obliterated by shifting low clouds, dark & foreboding. The air becoming colder & more intense as it whipped the low hanging branches of a willow tree on the edge of the park, swaying this way & that with a dance of doom.
My thoughts drifted on....meeting the full fury of a storm head on would not be conducive to the enjoyment of fresh air wafting around head & body. The elements lashing their tempestuous nature is not high on my list of preferences to experience. I walked more swiftly with purpose toward home, the wind fingering through my clothes, head bent to the breeze a little. I hastened my steps.
To the edge of the walking path, running alongside an already gushing creek between tall eucalypts & other Australian native shrubs, a golf course lay bare of participants, quiet in the knowledge of soaking rains & thunder consuming all in its path.
An occasional tree still bearing its colour & clinging to autumn, rustled with the breeze under its leaves, shaken & tossed while the branches danced & moved with the wind, flames of reds, oranges & yellows were menaced by the increasing ferocity.
Silver birch trees were almost empty of their autumnal adornment, but hung with soft catkin-like droplets shimmering above a few early daffodils poking through the earthiness below. This particular garden was a favourite of mine. Its front garden green & grassy with a border of daffodils flowering in the spring under several birch trees tipped with spring. White standard roses lined the driveway from a double carport, leading to the green painted timbered front door with a lace-like trellis nearby, adorned with more white roses. The soft green around each long,English looking cottage window with pale off-white walls suited the garden perfectly.
A flash of lightening followed by a thunderclap, became menacingly closer as the sky continued to darken, clouds were thickening even more - dark grey & black like a train rushing headlong through a tunnel.
The already swollen creek bubbled brown & swirling toward the next bridge, twirling under the canopy of swaying eucalypts, the banks thick with weed & greener than grass in early spring.
I glanced over to where an elm tree, still with soft yellows & greens on its thinning leaves, started to glisten with the first raindrops cascading from a stormy sky. I fastened my coat more firmly around my neck as rain splashed my face with increasing intensity. Tree trunks were already dark with the rain that fell during the previous night. Mushrooms, fresh & button-like had sprung up in odd places & on the grassy verges of gardens as I made for home. Trudging along the bark-littered path beside a park, rain intensified splashing in amongst the fallen leaves & twiggy branches forming small puddles, that became larger by the minute. They reflected the height of the eucalypts swaying briskly above, deeply & with darkened storm clouds, shimmering & rippling with each droplet.
Green & brown lichen, white tipped & curly, clung to a tree trunk feeling the pelting early winter rain, cold & wet, soaking into its boughs, turning them dark brown & glossy. Bright green moss appeared delicate & pretty amongst a few cracks in the concrete path.
Hurrying around a corner I passed a large white rose still daring to flower & I quickly took in its perfume, my nose becoming wet with splashes of rain. It smelled of hot summer days & warm perfume-filled nights, heady with the season that has now long gone & only a memory. I could almost feel my toes walking on warm golden sand while the waves of a gentle sea washed up on an empty beach, shimmering warmth with the sun's rays, the sea endlessly rising & falling, splashing the soft warm sand, the sun beating down when summer was at its peak.
By now the storm was intense, furious & meddlesome. Rain was sheeting in a slant, dipping into lengthening puddles, deepening with every moment. Rooftops were gushing with water, falling into gutters & shiny with the storm. Another flash of lightning was followed soon after by a thunderclap that felt directly overhead. The storm had encroached a lot more quickly than I had imagined, threatening & unpleasant. I shivered from its presence.
It was no time to stop & smell the roses I thought, quickening my steps even further. Clothing now seemed inadequate to keep the storm at bay. My face was covered in rain. Droplets, cold & uncomfortable were penetrating down my back. Shoes were soaked, the leather unable to resist the storm & feeling cold I broke into a run for the last remaining uncomfortable section of what I first thought was an early morning stroll at the start of winter.
Splashing water from collected puddles, I arrived home unpleasantly wet from drenching rain. Pulling a resigned face as I looked down, shaking rain from clothing, I grimaced with the sight that met my eyes, as pale clouds pink & apricot appeared in a softened sky. The darkness was being replaced with a hint of the sun's presence, but the storm had left its mark. It slowly moved across the sky, disappearing toward a mountain range, settling with ghostly drifts over the tips. nestling in amongst ferns & tall eucalypt forests. Winter had only just begun.
A single magpie flew low across the path of the incoming storm, landing on a chimney pot & warbled to whoever might be listening.
Strengthening wind gusts played with the front of my hair & shivered my insides as I wrapped a scarf more firmly around my neck & walked on, glancing toward the ever thickening & darkening sky. This may not be a time to be out walking I thought, as a rumble of thunder sounded in the distance, warning of worse to come. The sun was completely obliterated by shifting low clouds, dark & foreboding. The air becoming colder & more intense as it whipped the low hanging branches of a willow tree on the edge of the park, swaying this way & that with a dance of doom.
My thoughts drifted on....meeting the full fury of a storm head on would not be conducive to the enjoyment of fresh air wafting around head & body. The elements lashing their tempestuous nature is not high on my list of preferences to experience. I walked more swiftly with purpose toward home, the wind fingering through my clothes, head bent to the breeze a little. I hastened my steps.
To the edge of the walking path, running alongside an already gushing creek between tall eucalypts & other Australian native shrubs, a golf course lay bare of participants, quiet in the knowledge of soaking rains & thunder consuming all in its path.
An occasional tree still bearing its colour & clinging to autumn, rustled with the breeze under its leaves, shaken & tossed while the branches danced & moved with the wind, flames of reds, oranges & yellows were menaced by the increasing ferocity.
Silver birch trees were almost empty of their autumnal adornment, but hung with soft catkin-like droplets shimmering above a few early daffodils poking through the earthiness below. This particular garden was a favourite of mine. Its front garden green & grassy with a border of daffodils flowering in the spring under several birch trees tipped with spring. White standard roses lined the driveway from a double carport, leading to the green painted timbered front door with a lace-like trellis nearby, adorned with more white roses. The soft green around each long,English looking cottage window with pale off-white walls suited the garden perfectly.
A flash of lightening followed by a thunderclap, became menacingly closer as the sky continued to darken, clouds were thickening even more - dark grey & black like a train rushing headlong through a tunnel.
The already swollen creek bubbled brown & swirling toward the next bridge, twirling under the canopy of swaying eucalypts, the banks thick with weed & greener than grass in early spring.
I glanced over to where an elm tree, still with soft yellows & greens on its thinning leaves, started to glisten with the first raindrops cascading from a stormy sky. I fastened my coat more firmly around my neck as rain splashed my face with increasing intensity. Tree trunks were already dark with the rain that fell during the previous night. Mushrooms, fresh & button-like had sprung up in odd places & on the grassy verges of gardens as I made for home. Trudging along the bark-littered path beside a park, rain intensified splashing in amongst the fallen leaves & twiggy branches forming small puddles, that became larger by the minute. They reflected the height of the eucalypts swaying briskly above, deeply & with darkened storm clouds, shimmering & rippling with each droplet.
Green & brown lichen, white tipped & curly, clung to a tree trunk feeling the pelting early winter rain, cold & wet, soaking into its boughs, turning them dark brown & glossy. Bright green moss appeared delicate & pretty amongst a few cracks in the concrete path.
Hurrying around a corner I passed a large white rose still daring to flower & I quickly took in its perfume, my nose becoming wet with splashes of rain. It smelled of hot summer days & warm perfume-filled nights, heady with the season that has now long gone & only a memory. I could almost feel my toes walking on warm golden sand while the waves of a gentle sea washed up on an empty beach, shimmering warmth with the sun's rays, the sea endlessly rising & falling, splashing the soft warm sand, the sun beating down when summer was at its peak.
By now the storm was intense, furious & meddlesome. Rain was sheeting in a slant, dipping into lengthening puddles, deepening with every moment. Rooftops were gushing with water, falling into gutters & shiny with the storm. Another flash of lightning was followed soon after by a thunderclap that felt directly overhead. The storm had encroached a lot more quickly than I had imagined, threatening & unpleasant. I shivered from its presence.
It was no time to stop & smell the roses I thought, quickening my steps even further. Clothing now seemed inadequate to keep the storm at bay. My face was covered in rain. Droplets, cold & uncomfortable were penetrating down my back. Shoes were soaked, the leather unable to resist the storm & feeling cold I broke into a run for the last remaining uncomfortable section of what I first thought was an early morning stroll at the start of winter.
Splashing water from collected puddles, I arrived home unpleasantly wet from drenching rain. Pulling a resigned face as I looked down, shaking rain from clothing, I grimaced with the sight that met my eyes, as pale clouds pink & apricot appeared in a softened sky. The darkness was being replaced with a hint of the sun's presence, but the storm had left its mark. It slowly moved across the sky, disappearing toward a mountain range, settling with ghostly drifts over the tips. nestling in amongst ferns & tall eucalypt forests. Winter had only just begun.
Wednesday 12 June 2013
Poem (of thoughts & life)
Moon-kissed and summer happy
tides of love flow freely
through meadows hazy dawn
reaping breezes blowing
softly as the night owl calls
from distant oaken woodland.
Hearing the quiet rustle be
of distant hedgerow green
vixen slinks through shaded scene
pausing stealthily she moves
like shadows fallen nightly still
moonbeams dancing in her dream.
Sung earthy mellow misty rising
from dampness richly breathing
love ponders still her meaning
that has no care not forsaken
brushing carefree breath still bearing
whispers of longtime promises be.
tides of love flow freely
through meadows hazy dawn
reaping breezes blowing
softly as the night owl calls
from distant oaken woodland.
Hearing the quiet rustle be
of distant hedgerow green
vixen slinks through shaded scene
pausing stealthily she moves
like shadows fallen nightly still
moonbeams dancing in her dream.
Sung earthy mellow misty rising
from dampness richly breathing
love ponders still her meaning
that has no care not forsaken
brushing carefree breath still bearing
whispers of longtime promises be.
Monday 10 June 2013
Country Pursuits!
Night turned into day, the light of a February morning barely kissing the frost-encrusted grass as it slithered icily over the roof of the stable block. Today could be a day full of excitement, the atmosphere expectant, earth smelling rich with hardened frost, country air filling the lungs with invigorating exhilaration, the English countryside exuding a mood with the clear sky gathering the frosty earth.
The horses were stirring as Emily braced the day, the cold biting her cheeks shivering her in moments of the past - her thoughts drifting... days skiing in the European Alps, high in the mountains, powdered snow blowing into the air like sugar crystals, glistening as jewels in the brilliant sunshine. Standing atop snowy mountains, looking far across the scene of thick snow-dusted brilliance as far as the eye could see, even into an adjoining country, she marveled at the extent of beauty before her, revelling in the awe-inspiring drama & serenity of being in the Alps. She embraced it longingly, wishing to stay there indefinitely. This scenery always had the same affect on her. It was being in heaven, her heaven, where the quiet of the mountains sang tranquility in her heart.
She thought of the time walking from a huge cable car with many others, clomping in ski boots as they trudged through the snow, people chattering, wearing an assortment of coloured outfits as they reached the top for the steep run down. Skis would be placed down on heaped up snow, sticks adjusted on hands, boots clicking onto skis. Then with a push off, they were blissfully enjoying the exhilaration of the cold on their cheeks, laughing joyously, skis gliding & carving on snow down steep runs, taxing the strength of legs to stay on the mountain, turning under control but letting the skis run with the wind.
'Ah' said Emily under her breath with a smile, 'what memories!' The snow or even blizzards, stinging the face horizontally weaving down narrow tracks in virgin powder, turning in & out of trees, smelling the freshly brewed coffee or lunch somewhere further down, wafting through the air as you flew past occasional restaurants dotted amongst the mountains, invitingly warm & comfortable.
Emily brought her thoughts back to the morning, scarf, hat & coat barely keeping her warm as she walked toward the stable block. It was a different cold she thought, up in the mountains it always seemed better somehow, a very dry cold, but enjoyable, lifting the spirits to heights not experienced anywhere else. A very special sensation that made her feel comfortable with it, never wanting to leave. Her heart sang there, sang with the mountains, sang with the icicles that hung from the overhanging timbered eaves, the lights in the alpine villages that twinkled like stars in the clear mountainous sky at night. It was a winter wonderland that only appeared in dreams, her dreams. The snowy alps would hold a unique fascination for her.
She rather relished the winter, the crisp cold invigorating her senses, the occasional snow turning everything white & clean, when all appeared quiet with thick snow on the ground, the icy air embracing her face as she sniffed at the cold. Footsteps crunched through it, but the countryside lay still, almost frozen in time. Her cheeks were often pink, coloured like an English rose.
Today the ground & muddy clods in some of the surrounding fields where the animals had trodden a path after previous rain, were white with frost. The garden had settled into it's winter slumber, it's non-productive phase with hardly anything living it seemed, especially in sharp frosts. It simply went to sleep, never to wake until the sun in spring would slowly bring it to life again adding a new warmth, a freshness, gently encompassing all in its path. Life slowly returning within the buds of plants & trees, the grass growing lush & green under foot, the birds singing spring into the day, chirping & whistling throughout the apple boughs.
As Emily approached the stables, the horses already sensing the day at hand, tossed their heads snorting a little, moving around on their straw laden beds. They poked their heads from the open top doors, looking straight out toward the distant countryside. Threads of silver glistening off the almost frozen grass, white in places like a lake shining in the moonlight before it's fully risen. She almost relished the frosty air, seeming to take its vengeance, the day still early, the air quiet with winter.
After peering in at both the horses, hers & Ben's, she walked to the tack room next door to gather a few grooming items. The horses sensing the hunt would be out today & they wanting to be a part of it, shoved their noses at her, nuzzling gently as she entered one of the stables.
'Hey, that's enough from you, naughty boy,' she smiled taking a brush to her horse Apollo. 'Yes, you know don't you? Move over a bit & keep your feet to yourself. You trod on me last week & it still hurts, you great lump.' Apollo happily obliged & seemed to calm a little as the brush strokes from Emily glided over his back. He shifted slightly, eyeing her from his large brown eyes. They were kind eyes, never showing the whites in anger, giving her a warm serene feeling rushing through her body, loving the smell of Apollo, a pleasant horsey smell that only he possessed. He had a lovely gentle canter, like an old rocking chair, his chest wide & feet strong & sure, he chose his path with care & she always felt safe on his back. His gait was smooth, but not necessarily at a fast trot. He often made her laugh when returning to Ben's farm, where sometimes he was kept in the stables when not turned out to grass.
Emily thought of the time out riding with him, trotting along the lanes toward the end of May when they seemed full of spring. Suddenly Apollo bent his head, grabbing a mouthful of flowering cow parsley & continued on his way before she could stop him. She laughed to herself. There he was, trotting along, cow parsley sticking out each side of his mouth as he munched around the bit, still at a good pace. She smiled again at the thought. 'Naughty boy,' she said out loud, loving his naughtiness at times, his gentle nature & temperament.
She had finished the grooming of both horses, her & Ben's - named Tigre. He was her long time friend going back many years & his farm was where she kept her horse & visited the milking parlour where she often found herself standing on the gate, chatting to Ben or looking for him for one reason or another.
Both horses were a little on their toes, somehow sensing the day ahead, a possible day full of excitement out hunting with the rest of the field, sharing a good gallop. She had not been that keen on the idea of hunting to hounds for more than one reason, but her friend Ben often participated. He even took Apollo out once, clipped & fit for the occasion & seeing the state of him on return to the farm, Emily had almost exploded with laughter at the state they were both in.
'I'm exhausted' said Ben tiredly, still sitting on Apollo's back, reins slack, a little sweat on his forehead & completely plastered in mud. 'Your horse has a hard mouth. I didn't feel much in control at all! He pulled on the bit whilst hurtling himself down wet grassy hills with many others, all heading for a five bar gate at one time. He frightened the life out of me at one time. I almost shut my eyes & prayed, but thought better of it, as I needed to try & keep abreast of things & my wits about me. It pays to keep focused on what's ahead, just in case!'
'Oh, you get use to him Ben,' grinned Emily, trying to reassure him. 'He does that sometimes, always seems to pull up when he knows he has to. Best to let him get on with it. He's good like that, an excellent sense of knowing what's ahead & acting accordingly. He'll never take a flying leap over a five bar gate, just stops in time to wait until its opened. In fact, not many WOULD jump a five bar gate in that lot. They usually open them first & file through,'
'Could have fooled me!' Ben snorted half heartedly.
'Got good brakes, but steering can be a bit of a nightmare at times!' she laughed.
'Well, I'll stick with Tigre from now on,' he had said, looking thoroughly resigned to the fact, slipping off Apollo's back. Reins were now over the horse's head as Ben lead the sweating horse back to the stables for a brush, feed & finally a blanket to keep him warm. He felt he could do with the same treatment, looking down at himself & raising eyebrows at the sight.
Ben joined her a little later where the hunt was to meet, looking rather dapper in black hunting jacket with white stock & clean jodhpurs. Together they walked the horses to the meeting place where the rest of the field were gathering at a friend's farm.
'You look very smart Em' he called to her trotting alongside, following a large bay horse ridden by a solid looking young woman. She appeared not at all comfortable in the saddle he noticed, as they passed her along the track.
'Thanks Ben. You don't look too bad yourself,' indicating his black jacket looking groomed & well turned out. 'So you decided against a hacking jacket today hmm?' she teased, smiling cheekily at him, head cocked to one side.
Ben didn't answer, concentrating at what the gathered field were about to do. He wondered if the hounds would draw in old Alfred's wood later. It was locally called that, but legally belonged to the large estate nearby.
'Looks like the weather may stay calm, good for the hounds to find the sent easier' said Ben, sitting on Tigre sipping a sherry which he didn't much like. He preferred a good whiskey. He offered it to Emily while accepting a sausage roll to eat from their host & thanking him.
'Suppose I'd better drink it.' Emily grinned at him. 'I don't mind a sherry now & then, but not my favourite tipple either,' she whispered to Ben, leaning over her saddle toward him.
The field master was gathering up the hounds, calling some by name as they walked quickly in & out the mounted horses looking very alert. The hunting horn sounded in the traditional manner & a stream of riders were starting at a slow trot, filing out from the farm in groups of three & four - one or two youngsters following parents from a lead rein attached to their ponies.
Emily's horse immediately started dancing on his toes, head up, sniffing the air, becoming rather too excitable to her liking. She glanced over at Ben, where Tigre was passive & well behaved. 'Looks like it's going to be one of those days,' she grimaced. Apollo often became a little difficult to handle in these circumstances. To hold him back, she had to circle now & then keeping him well back from approaching too near the front of the field. That's one reason why she didn't participate too frequently in hunting. Passing the field master was not acceptable & considered bad manners. She knew that was definitely not within the correct rules of etiquette.
The horses were all tightly packed in a narrow lane, hounds almost underfoot of the riders, scrambling along banks on the side of the road. The whippers-in gathering them, while the master of hounds lead the field through a gate at the top of a large field. Alfred's wood was lying at the bottom, a large five bar wooden gate stood between them & the thick woodland. The field now taking off at a good canter, becoming faster as the five bar gate loomed over the ears of Emily's Apollo.
'Oh hell!' she gasped, Apollo eyeing the gate with rapid legs cantering in haste to get to the gate & possibly take it on before everyone else. 'Oh dear God'!' prayed Emily quietly, wrestling with the reins, trying to get Apollo's head up more. Ben was within reach & moving in swift succession with a few others. He glanced over at her briefly, noticing the fear on her face. Arms pulling almost out of their sockets it seemed.
'You'll be all right Em, just go with him & let him have his head!' Ben called to her quietly. 'You know he will pull up & not jump that gate. You said so yourself. Just try & keep him behind the field master, that's all!' He was trying to get in front of her to slow Apollo down a bit.
'I hope you're right Ben!' she replied, still a little flustered but relaxing slightly. The pace not exactly slowing or orderly, as they all headed towards the gate. It was a case of every man or woman to himself.
They approached the gate quickly & as expected, the field slowed to a more sedate pace, until someone stopped & with great control, opened it then standing back to let everyone through before closing it again.
Many utterances of 'thank you' as they rode past, a few pushing others as they bumped through. There was a stile nearby which certain bold horses jumped with relevant ease & grace, clearing it without mishap.
As they were now in the wood & at a walk, Ben said 'are you all right Em, I knew you would make it without coming off?'
'Of course I'm all right, I'm still on Apollo aren't I?' she retorted, slightly indignant. But very relieved that bit was over & done with. It was a steep, long hill & the horses liked a good canter or gallop where possible.
'I wonder if Lizzie will join us?' Ben said, swiveling around in his saddle looking back up the hill. Lizzie was a good friend to both of them. The trio sometimes getting together for different reasons & often helping each other out when needed.
'She did say she was coming' replied Emily in a low voice. 'She must have been held up somehow.'
"I thought so too,' said Ben. Steam was rising from the horses after a good fast canter, hitting the air like an old copper kettle left to simmer on a large log fire. Then it would vanish in the crisp winter air before more rose up from hot sweating horses & invigorated riders, some chatting quietly as they rode through the wood enjoying the winter atmosphere amongst the trees.
Just at that moment they heard a horse approaching from behind & both swiveling round in their saddles, found Lizzie riding her mare Minerva, tying up the gate before joining them.
'Where have you been?' whispered Ben as Lizzie pulled up next to them at a walk.
'Got thoroughly held up didn't I?' muttered Lizzie, looking slightly out of sorts. 'The blacksmith was so late in leaving. I thought he would never be done with the new round of shoes Minerva has just acquired. But somehow I have managed to catch you up.'
'Good for you,' said Emily. 'All is well now & we should all enjoy our day out. At least the weather is favourable.'
Lizzie & Ben agreed while all were keeping a close eye on the proceedings up front. The field were starting to spread out while the hounds went into the deepest part of the wood to draw there. Not too long after, the hunting horn sounded again & all the field looked alert & expectant. At that moment Lizzie was looking keenly into the trees, when suddenly she noticed a fox darting out from cover, heading for an open field, but first passing almost under her horse's legs. She was utterly amazed.
'Good God!' she exclaimed. 'Did you see what I just saw?' she added, indicating the path the fox took as it headed for the open field.
'That's the one all right!' commented old Bob as he shifted on his huge dapple grey gelding's back. He was old, but still sprightly & always wore a monocle sitting on his nose with a fob watch in his waistcoat pocket. He had a glass eye which dropped out once & rolled down a skittle alley when he bent down. His legs were not long by any means & bowed as they were short, probably from riding his large grey for so long.
'That's a bit unusual' he added. Bob owned a small business nearby & had been hunting for many years.
The hunting field took off at a strong canter to start with, followed by a full gallop. Helter skelter in pursuit of the fox the horses & riders following in earnest. The ground having melted slightly from the sharp frost earlier, was turning to clods of mud in places. More than a few of the riders were slowly being splattered with thick chunks of cold wet mud being thrown up by the hooves of the galloping horses.
The three friends, like many others, were now bespattered with brown blobs all over their clothes & faces as they all broke from the wood & tore across the field after the fox.
Best I keep my mouth firmly closed thought Emily, grimacing briefly after looking down at herself. Clods of grassy mud were flying in all directions, mainly up at their faces & the front of the horses. It flew up & hit the face with rapid velocity it you weren't concentrating. Ben was trying to duck a few, eyes focused carefully on the flying dirt which made Emily smile. She couldn't help feeling amused at the site of both horses & riders dolloped with chunks of brown mud. The ground tended to be a little marshy where they had just ridden from.
Soon the riders slowed at the edge of the field where it joined the road, drawing in reins, feet low in stirrups, standing on them for more control as the excited animals were pulled to a slow canter then walk.
After a time, everyone had been moving down a narrow lane once more, where someone spotted the fox crossing, heading for a copse of trees.
'Think he went that way,' one of the older ladies said, pointing with her riding crop through the trees where a narrow path ambled through them. The group of mounted riders were now following the master of the hunt in almost single file through the bare trees. They noticed it was necessary to keep elbows & knees in tightly, as they weaved in & out around protruding branches.
There was a large young woman on a huge bay called General, in front of Ben. The same one he noticed much earlier not looking at all comfortable in the saddle of her horse. Emily & Lizzie were following him.
As the woman's horse rounded a tight bend between trees, there was a thump in front of Ben's horse as the young woman had come clean off the back of her horse, landing rather ungainly in front of him. The branch of a tree catching her on the chest & knocking her to the ground. She forgot to duck. He pulled up immediately feeling quite alarmed, his horse not close enough to trample on what lay on the ground. Being careful not to step on the poor unfortunate young woman, Ben alighted from his saddle, quickly handing the reins to Emily.
'Oh dear, that must have hurt! Are you all right? No damage I hope?' he commiserated with the young lady.
As she managed to gather herself together, while still sitting on the cold wet ground holding everyone up, she muttered, 'yes I think so. Didn't see that last tree branch sticking out,' she said, feeling somewhat indignant with it.
Ben helped her up as best he could, the woman starting to brush herself off a bit, feeling rather embarrassed at the predicament she found herself in. 'Are you able to continue riding?' he asked hopefully.
'Yes I think so, give me a moment longer,' thanking Ben for his help. She turned now, looking to see if her horse was still nearby. Relieved that he was, as someone had noticed she had come off & stopped several others, catching the horse which wasn't too difficult between the trees in a tight situation. She staggered a bit, still not perfectly recovered from the mishap which had shook her. Clasping the reins while Ben held her horse, the young woman heaved herself back into the saddle, still looking a trifle stunned.
'Phew!' muttered Lizzie turning to Emily close behind & with a slight grin, pulling a face at her friend. 'Might be best to keep elbows & knees in tight from now on,' indicating to Emily.
'Absolutely!' replied Emily. 'What a thing to happen Lizzie! I don't fancy ending up on the ground under any circumstances.'
As they continued on their way weaving in & out on the narrow path between the trees, Emily kept her head down, eyes closed, knees tight in against Apollo, leaving him to pick his way carefully through the trees before arriving at the beginning of another field.
The morning continued, turning into a bright & invigorating afternoon with several fast gallops, horses sweating with lather on their chests, even though they were clipped. Riders were hot & flushed with the exhilaration of the cold air on their faces, pink & rosy under the spattering of mud. Older riders gasping a little after a long gallop, the horses enjoying their freedom as much as the riders on a winter's day in February. Tiredness was setting in, arms & muscles aching, lactic acid had been building up in the legs, posteriors getting a little sore.
The hounds had been running for some time, spreading out, some getting a little lost after becoming separated & heading in the wrong direction, splitting the pack & would be found well after dark no doubt. The hunt servants trying desperately to keep them orderly & from straying.
Eventually, a few were starting to head for home, their horses tired, some not as fit as perhaps they should be. Several streams had been scrambled through over the course of the day & in the woods, fallen trees had been carefully negotiated & jumped without problems. All except for one man who decided to take on a large wooden fence, not accessing the situation correctly & not taking a good run at it. Consequently, his tired horse promptly stopped dead in its tracks, eyeing with disdain, the height of the wooden fence. Digging in his front feet he totally refused the jump at slow speed, knowing full well it was not possible. Not so his rider, who promptly flew off over his horse's head, landing with a deafening cry & a loud thud on the sodden ground. Several bruises later, it was a miracle he had not broken every bone in his body, or even worse, considering the pace at which he hit the ground. Although thoroughly disgruntled at his horse, rather than blaming himself at the stupidity of attempting such a high fence, the foolish man slowly recovered & eventually was able to re-mount & continue, much to everyone's relief.
Ben turned to his two friends & wondered if they, like him, were ready to head for home. They readily agreed with the decision & after bidding the master 'good night', walked their horses toward a warm bath & clean clothes, after first seeing that their horses were well taken care of & fed a good mash for their efforts.
All three plodded home, tired & very dirty after a good day out riding to hounds on a crisp winter's day in February. The camaraderie between friends & the sheer pleasure of being at one with their horses, were shared experiences. They were all encompassing earthly joys, the beauty of the countryside was at peace with itself, their inner thoughts private & serene, each to his own as to the future outcome of field sports in England.
The horses were stirring as Emily braced the day, the cold biting her cheeks shivering her in moments of the past - her thoughts drifting... days skiing in the European Alps, high in the mountains, powdered snow blowing into the air like sugar crystals, glistening as jewels in the brilliant sunshine. Standing atop snowy mountains, looking far across the scene of thick snow-dusted brilliance as far as the eye could see, even into an adjoining country, she marveled at the extent of beauty before her, revelling in the awe-inspiring drama & serenity of being in the Alps. She embraced it longingly, wishing to stay there indefinitely. This scenery always had the same affect on her. It was being in heaven, her heaven, where the quiet of the mountains sang tranquility in her heart.
She thought of the time walking from a huge cable car with many others, clomping in ski boots as they trudged through the snow, people chattering, wearing an assortment of coloured outfits as they reached the top for the steep run down. Skis would be placed down on heaped up snow, sticks adjusted on hands, boots clicking onto skis. Then with a push off, they were blissfully enjoying the exhilaration of the cold on their cheeks, laughing joyously, skis gliding & carving on snow down steep runs, taxing the strength of legs to stay on the mountain, turning under control but letting the skis run with the wind.
'Ah' said Emily under her breath with a smile, 'what memories!' The snow or even blizzards, stinging the face horizontally weaving down narrow tracks in virgin powder, turning in & out of trees, smelling the freshly brewed coffee or lunch somewhere further down, wafting through the air as you flew past occasional restaurants dotted amongst the mountains, invitingly warm & comfortable.
Emily brought her thoughts back to the morning, scarf, hat & coat barely keeping her warm as she walked toward the stable block. It was a different cold she thought, up in the mountains it always seemed better somehow, a very dry cold, but enjoyable, lifting the spirits to heights not experienced anywhere else. A very special sensation that made her feel comfortable with it, never wanting to leave. Her heart sang there, sang with the mountains, sang with the icicles that hung from the overhanging timbered eaves, the lights in the alpine villages that twinkled like stars in the clear mountainous sky at night. It was a winter wonderland that only appeared in dreams, her dreams. The snowy alps would hold a unique fascination for her.
She rather relished the winter, the crisp cold invigorating her senses, the occasional snow turning everything white & clean, when all appeared quiet with thick snow on the ground, the icy air embracing her face as she sniffed at the cold. Footsteps crunched through it, but the countryside lay still, almost frozen in time. Her cheeks were often pink, coloured like an English rose.
Today the ground & muddy clods in some of the surrounding fields where the animals had trodden a path after previous rain, were white with frost. The garden had settled into it's winter slumber, it's non-productive phase with hardly anything living it seemed, especially in sharp frosts. It simply went to sleep, never to wake until the sun in spring would slowly bring it to life again adding a new warmth, a freshness, gently encompassing all in its path. Life slowly returning within the buds of plants & trees, the grass growing lush & green under foot, the birds singing spring into the day, chirping & whistling throughout the apple boughs.
As Emily approached the stables, the horses already sensing the day at hand, tossed their heads snorting a little, moving around on their straw laden beds. They poked their heads from the open top doors, looking straight out toward the distant countryside. Threads of silver glistening off the almost frozen grass, white in places like a lake shining in the moonlight before it's fully risen. She almost relished the frosty air, seeming to take its vengeance, the day still early, the air quiet with winter.
After peering in at both the horses, hers & Ben's, she walked to the tack room next door to gather a few grooming items. The horses sensing the hunt would be out today & they wanting to be a part of it, shoved their noses at her, nuzzling gently as she entered one of the stables.
'Hey, that's enough from you, naughty boy,' she smiled taking a brush to her horse Apollo. 'Yes, you know don't you? Move over a bit & keep your feet to yourself. You trod on me last week & it still hurts, you great lump.' Apollo happily obliged & seemed to calm a little as the brush strokes from Emily glided over his back. He shifted slightly, eyeing her from his large brown eyes. They were kind eyes, never showing the whites in anger, giving her a warm serene feeling rushing through her body, loving the smell of Apollo, a pleasant horsey smell that only he possessed. He had a lovely gentle canter, like an old rocking chair, his chest wide & feet strong & sure, he chose his path with care & she always felt safe on his back. His gait was smooth, but not necessarily at a fast trot. He often made her laugh when returning to Ben's farm, where sometimes he was kept in the stables when not turned out to grass.
Emily thought of the time out riding with him, trotting along the lanes toward the end of May when they seemed full of spring. Suddenly Apollo bent his head, grabbing a mouthful of flowering cow parsley & continued on his way before she could stop him. She laughed to herself. There he was, trotting along, cow parsley sticking out each side of his mouth as he munched around the bit, still at a good pace. She smiled again at the thought. 'Naughty boy,' she said out loud, loving his naughtiness at times, his gentle nature & temperament.
She had finished the grooming of both horses, her & Ben's - named Tigre. He was her long time friend going back many years & his farm was where she kept her horse & visited the milking parlour where she often found herself standing on the gate, chatting to Ben or looking for him for one reason or another.
Both horses were a little on their toes, somehow sensing the day ahead, a possible day full of excitement out hunting with the rest of the field, sharing a good gallop. She had not been that keen on the idea of hunting to hounds for more than one reason, but her friend Ben often participated. He even took Apollo out once, clipped & fit for the occasion & seeing the state of him on return to the farm, Emily had almost exploded with laughter at the state they were both in.
'I'm exhausted' said Ben tiredly, still sitting on Apollo's back, reins slack, a little sweat on his forehead & completely plastered in mud. 'Your horse has a hard mouth. I didn't feel much in control at all! He pulled on the bit whilst hurtling himself down wet grassy hills with many others, all heading for a five bar gate at one time. He frightened the life out of me at one time. I almost shut my eyes & prayed, but thought better of it, as I needed to try & keep abreast of things & my wits about me. It pays to keep focused on what's ahead, just in case!'
'Oh, you get use to him Ben,' grinned Emily, trying to reassure him. 'He does that sometimes, always seems to pull up when he knows he has to. Best to let him get on with it. He's good like that, an excellent sense of knowing what's ahead & acting accordingly. He'll never take a flying leap over a five bar gate, just stops in time to wait until its opened. In fact, not many WOULD jump a five bar gate in that lot. They usually open them first & file through,'
'Could have fooled me!' Ben snorted half heartedly.
'Got good brakes, but steering can be a bit of a nightmare at times!' she laughed.
'Well, I'll stick with Tigre from now on,' he had said, looking thoroughly resigned to the fact, slipping off Apollo's back. Reins were now over the horse's head as Ben lead the sweating horse back to the stables for a brush, feed & finally a blanket to keep him warm. He felt he could do with the same treatment, looking down at himself & raising eyebrows at the sight.
Ben joined her a little later where the hunt was to meet, looking rather dapper in black hunting jacket with white stock & clean jodhpurs. Together they walked the horses to the meeting place where the rest of the field were gathering at a friend's farm.
'You look very smart Em' he called to her trotting alongside, following a large bay horse ridden by a solid looking young woman. She appeared not at all comfortable in the saddle he noticed, as they passed her along the track.
'Thanks Ben. You don't look too bad yourself,' indicating his black jacket looking groomed & well turned out. 'So you decided against a hacking jacket today hmm?' she teased, smiling cheekily at him, head cocked to one side.
Ben didn't answer, concentrating at what the gathered field were about to do. He wondered if the hounds would draw in old Alfred's wood later. It was locally called that, but legally belonged to the large estate nearby.
'Looks like the weather may stay calm, good for the hounds to find the sent easier' said Ben, sitting on Tigre sipping a sherry which he didn't much like. He preferred a good whiskey. He offered it to Emily while accepting a sausage roll to eat from their host & thanking him.
'Suppose I'd better drink it.' Emily grinned at him. 'I don't mind a sherry now & then, but not my favourite tipple either,' she whispered to Ben, leaning over her saddle toward him.
The field master was gathering up the hounds, calling some by name as they walked quickly in & out the mounted horses looking very alert. The hunting horn sounded in the traditional manner & a stream of riders were starting at a slow trot, filing out from the farm in groups of three & four - one or two youngsters following parents from a lead rein attached to their ponies.
Emily's horse immediately started dancing on his toes, head up, sniffing the air, becoming rather too excitable to her liking. She glanced over at Ben, where Tigre was passive & well behaved. 'Looks like it's going to be one of those days,' she grimaced. Apollo often became a little difficult to handle in these circumstances. To hold him back, she had to circle now & then keeping him well back from approaching too near the front of the field. That's one reason why she didn't participate too frequently in hunting. Passing the field master was not acceptable & considered bad manners. She knew that was definitely not within the correct rules of etiquette.
The horses were all tightly packed in a narrow lane, hounds almost underfoot of the riders, scrambling along banks on the side of the road. The whippers-in gathering them, while the master of hounds lead the field through a gate at the top of a large field. Alfred's wood was lying at the bottom, a large five bar wooden gate stood between them & the thick woodland. The field now taking off at a good canter, becoming faster as the five bar gate loomed over the ears of Emily's Apollo.
'Oh hell!' she gasped, Apollo eyeing the gate with rapid legs cantering in haste to get to the gate & possibly take it on before everyone else. 'Oh dear God'!' prayed Emily quietly, wrestling with the reins, trying to get Apollo's head up more. Ben was within reach & moving in swift succession with a few others. He glanced over at her briefly, noticing the fear on her face. Arms pulling almost out of their sockets it seemed.
'You'll be all right Em, just go with him & let him have his head!' Ben called to her quietly. 'You know he will pull up & not jump that gate. You said so yourself. Just try & keep him behind the field master, that's all!' He was trying to get in front of her to slow Apollo down a bit.
'I hope you're right Ben!' she replied, still a little flustered but relaxing slightly. The pace not exactly slowing or orderly, as they all headed towards the gate. It was a case of every man or woman to himself.
They approached the gate quickly & as expected, the field slowed to a more sedate pace, until someone stopped & with great control, opened it then standing back to let everyone through before closing it again.
Many utterances of 'thank you' as they rode past, a few pushing others as they bumped through. There was a stile nearby which certain bold horses jumped with relevant ease & grace, clearing it without mishap.
As they were now in the wood & at a walk, Ben said 'are you all right Em, I knew you would make it without coming off?'
'Of course I'm all right, I'm still on Apollo aren't I?' she retorted, slightly indignant. But very relieved that bit was over & done with. It was a steep, long hill & the horses liked a good canter or gallop where possible.
'I wonder if Lizzie will join us?' Ben said, swiveling around in his saddle looking back up the hill. Lizzie was a good friend to both of them. The trio sometimes getting together for different reasons & often helping each other out when needed.
'She did say she was coming' replied Emily in a low voice. 'She must have been held up somehow.'
"I thought so too,' said Ben. Steam was rising from the horses after a good fast canter, hitting the air like an old copper kettle left to simmer on a large log fire. Then it would vanish in the crisp winter air before more rose up from hot sweating horses & invigorated riders, some chatting quietly as they rode through the wood enjoying the winter atmosphere amongst the trees.
Just at that moment they heard a horse approaching from behind & both swiveling round in their saddles, found Lizzie riding her mare Minerva, tying up the gate before joining them.
'Where have you been?' whispered Ben as Lizzie pulled up next to them at a walk.
'Got thoroughly held up didn't I?' muttered Lizzie, looking slightly out of sorts. 'The blacksmith was so late in leaving. I thought he would never be done with the new round of shoes Minerva has just acquired. But somehow I have managed to catch you up.'
'Good for you,' said Emily. 'All is well now & we should all enjoy our day out. At least the weather is favourable.'
Lizzie & Ben agreed while all were keeping a close eye on the proceedings up front. The field were starting to spread out while the hounds went into the deepest part of the wood to draw there. Not too long after, the hunting horn sounded again & all the field looked alert & expectant. At that moment Lizzie was looking keenly into the trees, when suddenly she noticed a fox darting out from cover, heading for an open field, but first passing almost under her horse's legs. She was utterly amazed.
'Good God!' she exclaimed. 'Did you see what I just saw?' she added, indicating the path the fox took as it headed for the open field.
'That's the one all right!' commented old Bob as he shifted on his huge dapple grey gelding's back. He was old, but still sprightly & always wore a monocle sitting on his nose with a fob watch in his waistcoat pocket. He had a glass eye which dropped out once & rolled down a skittle alley when he bent down. His legs were not long by any means & bowed as they were short, probably from riding his large grey for so long.
'That's a bit unusual' he added. Bob owned a small business nearby & had been hunting for many years.
The hunting field took off at a strong canter to start with, followed by a full gallop. Helter skelter in pursuit of the fox the horses & riders following in earnest. The ground having melted slightly from the sharp frost earlier, was turning to clods of mud in places. More than a few of the riders were slowly being splattered with thick chunks of cold wet mud being thrown up by the hooves of the galloping horses.
The three friends, like many others, were now bespattered with brown blobs all over their clothes & faces as they all broke from the wood & tore across the field after the fox.
Best I keep my mouth firmly closed thought Emily, grimacing briefly after looking down at herself. Clods of grassy mud were flying in all directions, mainly up at their faces & the front of the horses. It flew up & hit the face with rapid velocity it you weren't concentrating. Ben was trying to duck a few, eyes focused carefully on the flying dirt which made Emily smile. She couldn't help feeling amused at the site of both horses & riders dolloped with chunks of brown mud. The ground tended to be a little marshy where they had just ridden from.
Soon the riders slowed at the edge of the field where it joined the road, drawing in reins, feet low in stirrups, standing on them for more control as the excited animals were pulled to a slow canter then walk.
After a time, everyone had been moving down a narrow lane once more, where someone spotted the fox crossing, heading for a copse of trees.
'Think he went that way,' one of the older ladies said, pointing with her riding crop through the trees where a narrow path ambled through them. The group of mounted riders were now following the master of the hunt in almost single file through the bare trees. They noticed it was necessary to keep elbows & knees in tightly, as they weaved in & out around protruding branches.
There was a large young woman on a huge bay called General, in front of Ben. The same one he noticed much earlier not looking at all comfortable in the saddle of her horse. Emily & Lizzie were following him.
As the woman's horse rounded a tight bend between trees, there was a thump in front of Ben's horse as the young woman had come clean off the back of her horse, landing rather ungainly in front of him. The branch of a tree catching her on the chest & knocking her to the ground. She forgot to duck. He pulled up immediately feeling quite alarmed, his horse not close enough to trample on what lay on the ground. Being careful not to step on the poor unfortunate young woman, Ben alighted from his saddle, quickly handing the reins to Emily.
'Oh dear, that must have hurt! Are you all right? No damage I hope?' he commiserated with the young lady.
As she managed to gather herself together, while still sitting on the cold wet ground holding everyone up, she muttered, 'yes I think so. Didn't see that last tree branch sticking out,' she said, feeling somewhat indignant with it.
Ben helped her up as best he could, the woman starting to brush herself off a bit, feeling rather embarrassed at the predicament she found herself in. 'Are you able to continue riding?' he asked hopefully.
'Yes I think so, give me a moment longer,' thanking Ben for his help. She turned now, looking to see if her horse was still nearby. Relieved that he was, as someone had noticed she had come off & stopped several others, catching the horse which wasn't too difficult between the trees in a tight situation. She staggered a bit, still not perfectly recovered from the mishap which had shook her. Clasping the reins while Ben held her horse, the young woman heaved herself back into the saddle, still looking a trifle stunned.
'Phew!' muttered Lizzie turning to Emily close behind & with a slight grin, pulling a face at her friend. 'Might be best to keep elbows & knees in tight from now on,' indicating to Emily.
'Absolutely!' replied Emily. 'What a thing to happen Lizzie! I don't fancy ending up on the ground under any circumstances.'
As they continued on their way weaving in & out on the narrow path between the trees, Emily kept her head down, eyes closed, knees tight in against Apollo, leaving him to pick his way carefully through the trees before arriving at the beginning of another field.
The morning continued, turning into a bright & invigorating afternoon with several fast gallops, horses sweating with lather on their chests, even though they were clipped. Riders were hot & flushed with the exhilaration of the cold air on their faces, pink & rosy under the spattering of mud. Older riders gasping a little after a long gallop, the horses enjoying their freedom as much as the riders on a winter's day in February. Tiredness was setting in, arms & muscles aching, lactic acid had been building up in the legs, posteriors getting a little sore.
The hounds had been running for some time, spreading out, some getting a little lost after becoming separated & heading in the wrong direction, splitting the pack & would be found well after dark no doubt. The hunt servants trying desperately to keep them orderly & from straying.
Eventually, a few were starting to head for home, their horses tired, some not as fit as perhaps they should be. Several streams had been scrambled through over the course of the day & in the woods, fallen trees had been carefully negotiated & jumped without problems. All except for one man who decided to take on a large wooden fence, not accessing the situation correctly & not taking a good run at it. Consequently, his tired horse promptly stopped dead in its tracks, eyeing with disdain, the height of the wooden fence. Digging in his front feet he totally refused the jump at slow speed, knowing full well it was not possible. Not so his rider, who promptly flew off over his horse's head, landing with a deafening cry & a loud thud on the sodden ground. Several bruises later, it was a miracle he had not broken every bone in his body, or even worse, considering the pace at which he hit the ground. Although thoroughly disgruntled at his horse, rather than blaming himself at the stupidity of attempting such a high fence, the foolish man slowly recovered & eventually was able to re-mount & continue, much to everyone's relief.
Ben turned to his two friends & wondered if they, like him, were ready to head for home. They readily agreed with the decision & after bidding the master 'good night', walked their horses toward a warm bath & clean clothes, after first seeing that their horses were well taken care of & fed a good mash for their efforts.
All three plodded home, tired & very dirty after a good day out riding to hounds on a crisp winter's day in February. The camaraderie between friends & the sheer pleasure of being at one with their horses, were shared experiences. They were all encompassing earthly joys, the beauty of the countryside was at peace with itself, their inner thoughts private & serene, each to his own as to the future outcome of field sports in England.
Wednesday 5 June 2013
Dorset memory - 16 Sheep may safely graze!
Clouds were tipped with summer's blossom-pink, edged white, soft as perfumed petals whimpering across the early morning sky. Further over the hills, darker blue & grey clouds hovered, hesitating for some time while Emily gazed out of the window spotting a complete & colour-filled rainbow that seemed to linger, glinting hauntingly as if with a special purpose.
Her mind was wandering whilst studying a book of Monet's pinks & greens on the lake, at his home in Givenchy, France.
Ah, sighed Emily pondering on one of his paintings in particular.
Her thoughts far away as she enjoyed the style of Monet's shades of green, lovely as a lilypond, trees & sky blessed with light & careful daubs of paint applied in just the right places, giving it a certain ambience, a summer to wallow in. She continued on - those water lilies look as though they could tell me about the artist's life, she mused.
Slowly turning pages dallying, Emily considered the founder of French impressionist painting pausing further, the pages of the book informing of Monet's consistency & prolific dedication to what he saw, haystacks, poplars, English Parliament. Admiring the different colour applications in some of the paintings, she wondered if this was an indication of the artist's troubled life. She realized that Monet had actually gone blind, his work becoming blurry, variations in colour & tones suggesting the traumas ahead as he had trouble recognizing certain ones.
What a thing to happen to a gifted artist! she contemplated for several moments. How could feat deal such a cruel blow to which Monet was subjected. Emily was shaking her head slightly, an incredulous occurrence, feeling sad & drinking the last of her coffee.
The rainbow was dimming into the distant hills, ghostlike, fading slowly, being replaced with a heavy-looking shower of rain, slanting into small valleys, reminding Emily of the colours in Monet's art.
Slowly she closed the book, determined to visit the local library to seek out more information on the works of the French impressionist artist.
The rain shower disappeared altogether almost as quickly as it had arrived.
Oh well, thought Emily, I'd best get a few things done. The garden was always demanding, needing constant attention at this time of early summer. But at the moment, a knock on the door sounding a little urgent.
Emily opened it finding her long time friend Ben looking slightly ruffled in his work clothes, face grim & anxious.
'Morning Em! The milking has finished, but a few sheep have escaped from Four Acres. I wonder if you wouldn't mind lending a hand to usher them back again. Andy is holding the fort & we could call in on Lizzie on the way down to add an extra pair of arms. Hope she is available. Andy was turning the cows out into the field next door to Four Acres - that's how we noticed the wretched sheep wandering about.'
Lizzie was a good friend of both Emily & Ben, the threesome having known each other for many years & lived in a sort of triangle to each other.
'Of course Ben, the weeds can wait for the moment. I'll just slip my wellies on. Might need them after the rain showers. If you leave now, I'll follow you back to the farm & call in quickly to see if Lizzie can help. Think we may need her by the sound of it!'
'Thanks Emily, thought I could count on you. I'd best get going then. See you down there.'
'That's fine Ben, be right with you.'
Emily headed for her wellington boots before making a quick exit through the front door, locking it behind her then walked down to her car.
Blasted sheep can be so troublesome she half muttered starting the car engine. Hope they haven't strayed too far. Stupid animals, they can be as daft as a headless chicken at times & once they get a sense of freedom, could even try to hop back through a fence to return to the flock, or wander some distance. They could be herded away too, by unsuspecting passing traffic. Oh dear, hope we can manage to retrieve them she wondered, pulling into the driveway of Lizzie's place.
As luck would have it, Lizzie was bending low close to the driveway entrance, noticing Emily's car & straightened up as Emily stopped & called from the car window.
'Hello Lizzie, any chance of you being free for a while to help Ben herd a few sheep back to their field? I'm on my way now & hoped you might be available. Think he could do with an extra pair of hands shepherding them back. You know what sheep are like!'
'Of course Emily, I'd be glad to. Give me a moment to grab some boots & I'll join you.'
'That's great, thanks Lizzie, I'll wait in the car & drive us both down to Ben's place. Think I know where they might be, these wandering sheep. Ben wasn't exactly specific, but I passed their field recently & know from where they may have escaped.'
Lizzie joined Emily & together they made the short distance to where Ben was trying in vein to gather up the sheep. Upon spotting them, he signaled as to where he needed them to stand, half muttering a greeting to Lizzie with a resigned nod in reference to the sheep.
'If you wait by the gate Emily & cover that area next to it, Lizzie & I can herd them in that direction hopefully. Don't open the gate until we round them up & I give the signal. They are not too far away & thank goodness they all appear to be together. Lizzie & I must try to drive them that way, as once they get spooked may shoot off in all directions. Then we will be done for!'
'Right Ben' Emily called as the others set off toward the sheep. Emily turned & was standing on the gate before turning, looking in the direction the others had gone. She often found herself standing on a gate, it seemed a good vantage point for one thing.
'They are up on that bank Lizzie.' Ben now directing the proceedings to her & considered, 'if we can get behind them somehow & run them along the top just there' he pointed- 'we might be able to keep them quietly together. The hedge will help.'
'Okay Ben, I'm with you' replied Lizzie. 'I'll go in behind them just there,' she said gesticulating.
Together they had found hazel sticks in the hedge & with arms outstretched, cajoled the sheep along the top of the bank, moving them slowly toward the edge of the field, closer to where Emily was standing on the gate, waiting to open it at just the right moment.
She often climbed the large iron gate close to where Ben would be milking & peer over the cows waiting to be milked. She would sometimes call out to him if he was in the vague vicinity of the milk tank shed & he may answer between cleaning udders & ushering his 'ladies' in & out of the milking bays. Their large bodies bumping from side to side as they were turned out to wait for their next manoeuvre.
Emily was not very interested in opening the gates if she could avoid it, some being rather heavy, having to be lifted & opened at the same time. Some were very old, rusted & decaying, dropping on their hinges, the crossbars falling away, then devilishly difficult to creak open, especially if tied up as well.
Just at that moment, Andy strolled up, free now from tending the cows, along with Ben's third dog Rufus, a dab hand with sheep, being bred for the job.
'Looks like you found them then!' Andy commented as he joined the two with Rufus, tail wagging with enthusiasm, looking more than eager.
'Yeah!' replied Ben, still concentrating on one sheep in particular, looking as though it might make a break for it at any moment.
'Rufus!' he suddenly shouted. 'Come here boy - you silly dog! What the devil do you think you're doing?'
He occasionally wanted to address Rufus as Ruthless, when the sheep dog became too overindulgent in his task to control the sheep & appeared to nip away at the sheep's lower legs.
'Come here!' he repeated. 'Now - and keep at them' he whistled. 'That's it, good boy!'
The sheep appeared to stay together, still on track for the open gate that Emily was carefully guarding. Ben's eyes were fixed on a possible break from any of the sheep.
Emily was now much closer & could almost be of help, hopping off the gate with arms outstretched ready to close the gate after the last one had entered.
'Blast that dog!' she heard Ben cursing & trying not to explode as he tried desperately with the constant help of Lizzie & Andy at each side, keeping everything under constant surveillance & control.
'Rufus! That way, not back up the bank!' he called as the sheep were almost on a direct line now for the gate. More expletives escaping from the direction of Ben as he tried to control both dog & sheep.
'There, that's better!' he whistled again to Rufus, the dog constantly with head down, running one way, then another around the outside of the flock.
'Right then... Oh no!' he went on. 'Bugger the stupid animal!' he spluttered, as the sheep showing all the signs of a breakaway, did so in a sudden dash in the wrong direction, Rufus wagging his tail, looking more eager, circled quickly .
'After him Rufus, quickly now!' whistling & commanding at the same time, as Rufus sped after the stray sheep, rounding on it turning it back. 'Well done boy - that's better - you've got it, that's the way!' Ben sounding a lot more positive.
He relaxed a little as he wanted to help Rufus, but the experienced sheep dog knew his duties & was as quick as the wind, fetching & lifting the sheep, getting it under control to join the others.
Back he came with the sheep at a good pace, keeping it going straight. Ben smiling a little as he thought of the TV programme, One man & his dog. Rufus may well be a candidate for that, but he tended to be overenthusiastic, so Ben put THAT idea out of his mind. At least his dog was achieving what he was meant to - most of the time.
Without further mishaps, Rufus had the stray sheep back in the fold & the three of them continued with their careful herding, all breathing a sigh of relief for the moment.
Emily was close now, only a short distance to go as Lizzie was one side of the proceedings doing a great job keeping her side of things under control, Ben & Andy close by.
She glanced briefly over at Ben who was still concentrating the sheep toward the gateway.
'Right now, all seems to be going to plan. Get ready!' he motioned to Emily, waving his hazel stick up & down carefully.
'Say when will you Ben & I'll open the gate!'
'Nearly there Em!' Ben called gently so as not to scare the sheep at the last moment. 'Are you ready you two?' he addressed Lizzie & Andy.
'Yep!' replied Andy nodding slowly.
'Me too!' Lizzie called softly.
'Okay, get ready, nearly there. Right...., NOW!' nodding to Emily with assertion.
Emily opened the gate with smooth efficiency, stick & arm outstretched, while the others slowly & carefully directed the sheep through the gateway.
Heaving a sigh of relief, she let out a deep sigh. 'Got it!'
Ben also heaved a sigh of relief, smiling all round. Everyone had done their bit in helping to get the wayward sheep back where they belonged.
'Phew, thank God for that!' he breathed.
'I'll be sure & plug that gap where they got out' Andy offered. 'Right then I'd best be off,' nodding to everyone as he strode off to the next field, Rufus close at his heels.
Emily had shut & tied the gate then turned & grinned satisfyingly at Lizzie & Ben.
'Anyone for a good strong coffee before I get back to work? I think we have all earned it, don't you?'
'We may as well' Lizzie pulling a face, head cocked to one side.
'Fine by me!' added Emily.
'Right then, follow me ladies & I'll soon have that coffee made & might even be able to scrape up something decent to have with it!' he grinned. 'And before I forget, thank you both for a good job done. Much appreciated.'
Both ladies looked at each other, shrugged with a grin & followed close in Ben's tracks, not at this stage thinking any more about the rest of the day.
By now the sun was becoming warmer as the late morning sunrays flitted around the farmhouse, the air alive & free with an assortment of early summer playing around the insect-buzzing countryside. Bees were humming in the kitchen garden, while swallows swooped down from the barn. A far off horse could be heard snorting & blowing the insects from its mane, cows treading the lush sweet grass, wandering in a dream of glorified abundance.
Her mind was wandering whilst studying a book of Monet's pinks & greens on the lake, at his home in Givenchy, France.
Ah, sighed Emily pondering on one of his paintings in particular.
Her thoughts far away as she enjoyed the style of Monet's shades of green, lovely as a lilypond, trees & sky blessed with light & careful daubs of paint applied in just the right places, giving it a certain ambience, a summer to wallow in. She continued on - those water lilies look as though they could tell me about the artist's life, she mused.
Slowly turning pages dallying, Emily considered the founder of French impressionist painting pausing further, the pages of the book informing of Monet's consistency & prolific dedication to what he saw, haystacks, poplars, English Parliament. Admiring the different colour applications in some of the paintings, she wondered if this was an indication of the artist's troubled life. She realized that Monet had actually gone blind, his work becoming blurry, variations in colour & tones suggesting the traumas ahead as he had trouble recognizing certain ones.
What a thing to happen to a gifted artist! she contemplated for several moments. How could feat deal such a cruel blow to which Monet was subjected. Emily was shaking her head slightly, an incredulous occurrence, feeling sad & drinking the last of her coffee.
The rainbow was dimming into the distant hills, ghostlike, fading slowly, being replaced with a heavy-looking shower of rain, slanting into small valleys, reminding Emily of the colours in Monet's art.
Slowly she closed the book, determined to visit the local library to seek out more information on the works of the French impressionist artist.
The rain shower disappeared altogether almost as quickly as it had arrived.
Oh well, thought Emily, I'd best get a few things done. The garden was always demanding, needing constant attention at this time of early summer. But at the moment, a knock on the door sounding a little urgent.
Emily opened it finding her long time friend Ben looking slightly ruffled in his work clothes, face grim & anxious.
'Morning Em! The milking has finished, but a few sheep have escaped from Four Acres. I wonder if you wouldn't mind lending a hand to usher them back again. Andy is holding the fort & we could call in on Lizzie on the way down to add an extra pair of arms. Hope she is available. Andy was turning the cows out into the field next door to Four Acres - that's how we noticed the wretched sheep wandering about.'
Lizzie was a good friend of both Emily & Ben, the threesome having known each other for many years & lived in a sort of triangle to each other.
'Of course Ben, the weeds can wait for the moment. I'll just slip my wellies on. Might need them after the rain showers. If you leave now, I'll follow you back to the farm & call in quickly to see if Lizzie can help. Think we may need her by the sound of it!'
'Thanks Emily, thought I could count on you. I'd best get going then. See you down there.'
'That's fine Ben, be right with you.'
Emily headed for her wellington boots before making a quick exit through the front door, locking it behind her then walked down to her car.
Blasted sheep can be so troublesome she half muttered starting the car engine. Hope they haven't strayed too far. Stupid animals, they can be as daft as a headless chicken at times & once they get a sense of freedom, could even try to hop back through a fence to return to the flock, or wander some distance. They could be herded away too, by unsuspecting passing traffic. Oh dear, hope we can manage to retrieve them she wondered, pulling into the driveway of Lizzie's place.
As luck would have it, Lizzie was bending low close to the driveway entrance, noticing Emily's car & straightened up as Emily stopped & called from the car window.
'Hello Lizzie, any chance of you being free for a while to help Ben herd a few sheep back to their field? I'm on my way now & hoped you might be available. Think he could do with an extra pair of hands shepherding them back. You know what sheep are like!'
'Of course Emily, I'd be glad to. Give me a moment to grab some boots & I'll join you.'
'That's great, thanks Lizzie, I'll wait in the car & drive us both down to Ben's place. Think I know where they might be, these wandering sheep. Ben wasn't exactly specific, but I passed their field recently & know from where they may have escaped.'
Lizzie joined Emily & together they made the short distance to where Ben was trying in vein to gather up the sheep. Upon spotting them, he signaled as to where he needed them to stand, half muttering a greeting to Lizzie with a resigned nod in reference to the sheep.
'If you wait by the gate Emily & cover that area next to it, Lizzie & I can herd them in that direction hopefully. Don't open the gate until we round them up & I give the signal. They are not too far away & thank goodness they all appear to be together. Lizzie & I must try to drive them that way, as once they get spooked may shoot off in all directions. Then we will be done for!'
'Right Ben' Emily called as the others set off toward the sheep. Emily turned & was standing on the gate before turning, looking in the direction the others had gone. She often found herself standing on a gate, it seemed a good vantage point for one thing.
'They are up on that bank Lizzie.' Ben now directing the proceedings to her & considered, 'if we can get behind them somehow & run them along the top just there' he pointed- 'we might be able to keep them quietly together. The hedge will help.'
'Okay Ben, I'm with you' replied Lizzie. 'I'll go in behind them just there,' she said gesticulating.
Together they had found hazel sticks in the hedge & with arms outstretched, cajoled the sheep along the top of the bank, moving them slowly toward the edge of the field, closer to where Emily was standing on the gate, waiting to open it at just the right moment.
She often climbed the large iron gate close to where Ben would be milking & peer over the cows waiting to be milked. She would sometimes call out to him if he was in the vague vicinity of the milk tank shed & he may answer between cleaning udders & ushering his 'ladies' in & out of the milking bays. Their large bodies bumping from side to side as they were turned out to wait for their next manoeuvre.
Emily was not very interested in opening the gates if she could avoid it, some being rather heavy, having to be lifted & opened at the same time. Some were very old, rusted & decaying, dropping on their hinges, the crossbars falling away, then devilishly difficult to creak open, especially if tied up as well.
Just at that moment, Andy strolled up, free now from tending the cows, along with Ben's third dog Rufus, a dab hand with sheep, being bred for the job.
'Looks like you found them then!' Andy commented as he joined the two with Rufus, tail wagging with enthusiasm, looking more than eager.
'Yeah!' replied Ben, still concentrating on one sheep in particular, looking as though it might make a break for it at any moment.
'Rufus!' he suddenly shouted. 'Come here boy - you silly dog! What the devil do you think you're doing?'
He occasionally wanted to address Rufus as Ruthless, when the sheep dog became too overindulgent in his task to control the sheep & appeared to nip away at the sheep's lower legs.
'Come here!' he repeated. 'Now - and keep at them' he whistled. 'That's it, good boy!'
The sheep appeared to stay together, still on track for the open gate that Emily was carefully guarding. Ben's eyes were fixed on a possible break from any of the sheep.
Emily was now much closer & could almost be of help, hopping off the gate with arms outstretched ready to close the gate after the last one had entered.
'Blast that dog!' she heard Ben cursing & trying not to explode as he tried desperately with the constant help of Lizzie & Andy at each side, keeping everything under constant surveillance & control.
'Rufus! That way, not back up the bank!' he called as the sheep were almost on a direct line now for the gate. More expletives escaping from the direction of Ben as he tried to control both dog & sheep.
'There, that's better!' he whistled again to Rufus, the dog constantly with head down, running one way, then another around the outside of the flock.
'Right then... Oh no!' he went on. 'Bugger the stupid animal!' he spluttered, as the sheep showing all the signs of a breakaway, did so in a sudden dash in the wrong direction, Rufus wagging his tail, looking more eager, circled quickly .
'After him Rufus, quickly now!' whistling & commanding at the same time, as Rufus sped after the stray sheep, rounding on it turning it back. 'Well done boy - that's better - you've got it, that's the way!' Ben sounding a lot more positive.
He relaxed a little as he wanted to help Rufus, but the experienced sheep dog knew his duties & was as quick as the wind, fetching & lifting the sheep, getting it under control to join the others.
Back he came with the sheep at a good pace, keeping it going straight. Ben smiling a little as he thought of the TV programme, One man & his dog. Rufus may well be a candidate for that, but he tended to be overenthusiastic, so Ben put THAT idea out of his mind. At least his dog was achieving what he was meant to - most of the time.
Without further mishaps, Rufus had the stray sheep back in the fold & the three of them continued with their careful herding, all breathing a sigh of relief for the moment.
Emily was close now, only a short distance to go as Lizzie was one side of the proceedings doing a great job keeping her side of things under control, Ben & Andy close by.
She glanced briefly over at Ben who was still concentrating the sheep toward the gateway.
'Right now, all seems to be going to plan. Get ready!' he motioned to Emily, waving his hazel stick up & down carefully.
'Say when will you Ben & I'll open the gate!'
'Nearly there Em!' Ben called gently so as not to scare the sheep at the last moment. 'Are you ready you two?' he addressed Lizzie & Andy.
'Yep!' replied Andy nodding slowly.
'Me too!' Lizzie called softly.
'Okay, get ready, nearly there. Right...., NOW!' nodding to Emily with assertion.
Emily opened the gate with smooth efficiency, stick & arm outstretched, while the others slowly & carefully directed the sheep through the gateway.
Heaving a sigh of relief, she let out a deep sigh. 'Got it!'
Ben also heaved a sigh of relief, smiling all round. Everyone had done their bit in helping to get the wayward sheep back where they belonged.
'Phew, thank God for that!' he breathed.
'I'll be sure & plug that gap where they got out' Andy offered. 'Right then I'd best be off,' nodding to everyone as he strode off to the next field, Rufus close at his heels.
Emily had shut & tied the gate then turned & grinned satisfyingly at Lizzie & Ben.
'Anyone for a good strong coffee before I get back to work? I think we have all earned it, don't you?'
'We may as well' Lizzie pulling a face, head cocked to one side.
'Fine by me!' added Emily.
'Right then, follow me ladies & I'll soon have that coffee made & might even be able to scrape up something decent to have with it!' he grinned. 'And before I forget, thank you both for a good job done. Much appreciated.'
Both ladies looked at each other, shrugged with a grin & followed close in Ben's tracks, not at this stage thinking any more about the rest of the day.
By now the sun was becoming warmer as the late morning sunrays flitted around the farmhouse, the air alive & free with an assortment of early summer playing around the insect-buzzing countryside. Bees were humming in the kitchen garden, while swallows swooped down from the barn. A far off horse could be heard snorting & blowing the insects from its mane, cows treading the lush sweet grass, wandering in a dream of glorified abundance.
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