I call my horse Lilly "Brumby" as a term of endearment. But I didn't make the word up! In Australia a wild horse is called a brumby or brumbie. The word derives from the name of a Major William Brumby, an early 19th century settler from England who was a noted breeder of horses. Through the years a large number of his stock escaped and became feral. Another possible origin of the word-Booramby, Aborigine for wild.
There she is. The sour patch kid. Innocently nibbling hay in the morning sun. Don't be fooled by such a darling face. (and it is pretty darling, I must say)
Today I set out on the trail solo. No one was around so it was just my brumby and me. As usual, it was a battle of wills to the trail head. Miss Take-Ten-Steps-and-Then-Stop was at it again. Infuriating, especially since I know her feet don't hurt (she has shoes on) and the trail isn't scary (she knows this trail better than anyone). I decided to go for the Parallel Trail and then at the cottage in to woods, wrap around and come home via the River Trail. This picture is from Quartz Corner. More refusals to go forward. Is my brumby becoming barn sour?
Is it that she hates getting her pretty feet so dirty? We've had so much rain that the trail in Quartz Corner was a real mess.
As much as Lilly was not too interested in moving forward, she remained very calm about it. She's a very stoic creature. I kept telling her that when you look like a Good n' Plenty candy out on the trail, it is very hard to take such stoicism so seriously. I ended up getting off of her and walking her down part of the trail.
We were momentarily distracted by a toad who was hopping by. Did you know that one of the differences between a frog and a toad is that toads hop and frogs leap?
I think Lilly didn't want to move forward because I'm make her walk over these slippery rocks. And maybe because all of her buddies are back in their pasture soaking up so sun.
As soon as we make the hairpin turn that turns the Parallel Trail into the River Trail, Lilly's pace picked up considerably. Getting her to step out moving away from the barn is like pulling teeth. Going home is always a much more enjoyable ride. I guess the girl knows her direction. An 1100 pound compass. Here we are passing the river, which I have discovered, speaking of directions, is named the South River.
Last summer (or maybe the summer before) when I was starting to learn tree identification, there was one tree that Bill said has leaves that are tulip shaped. I was always like, Huh? Tulips? So today Lilly kept stopping to nibble these very leaves pictured here and I said to myself: Look, those look like tulips! And then, I remembered Bill's tree lesson! Only I could not remember what kind of tree had tulip shaped leaves. Who knows this answer? At home, my naturalist husband told me. Answer at the end of this post!
Even with the initial sour patch quality of our ride, overall it was excellent. The River Trail is actually verrry steep and Lilly plowed up it very gently. Perfect! Back at the barn, she tried to befriend Molly the cat.
Move over mice! It looks like three blind mares! I actually think fly masks are really neat. If only Lilly's was in pink.....
Farewell for now! But before I go, the answer to the tulip leaf quiz:
It's a striped maple!
(I will add that Brandon and I originally thought it was a poplar, but upon his return from Vermont, Bill corrected us! Good ole Bill! What would we do without him?)
I hope you have enjoyed reading my blog! One day I hope to make it bigger and better! Click on the words "Older Posts" right above this note if you would like to see more entries about me and my brumby.