Imagine this, if you will... It was a clear, brisk, breezy, early fall afternoon in Eastern NC. Temperatures were in the upper sixties, but the steady northerly winds made it feel at least ten degrees cooler. The sun was shining brightly, however, spreading a soft memory of summer across the landscape. Grasses were beginning to turn brown, the leaves in the woods behind the house were turning and falling, and the slight nip in the air hinted at the winter to come. The sky was such a clear and brilliant blue that it hurt. I ambled out to the barn to feed the horses, in no particular hurry. The girls were waiting for me, voicing the odd whinny or nicker of greeting, but they were just as caught up in the sleepy feel of the day as I was. Even the dogs were taking things slowly, lazing about in patches of slowly fading sunlight. As I drew nearer the barn, I noticed something odd about Pretty Woman; there was a strange black blob on her right hip. Despite the weirdness of it, I didnt rush over in a panic; I somehow knew it wasnt anything dangerous, just a bit...well, odd. She didnt pay it any mind, standing hipshot by the gate, watching my approach with half-closed eyes. Molly stood next to her, stretching her neck and flapping her lips outrageously in my direction, sending me into a quiet fit of giggles. Reaching the gate, I realized that the splotch Id seen at a distance was, in fact, a small-ish black bird. Of what exact species, I have no idea. It was about 6 long overall, from beak to tail-tip, and covered with glossy, iridescent black feathers. He was quite lovely, and obviously well-satisfied with his perch, because with the exception of a jaundiced glare in my direction, he paid me little mind. I spoke easily to the girls as I walked into the barn. Gathering up a few flakes of hay, I tossed these into the girls usual feeding spots, then doled out the pelleted feed into their buckets. I whistled as I walked over to the fence line with their feed, not because I needed to, with them standing right there, but because I knew theyd start trotting about with excitement, and that is a lovely sight to see. Molly, especially, has a beautiful extended trot... To my surprise, Pretty Womans passenger was still there, even as she broke into a brisk trot. I laughed to see him taking little hops with each of her strides, for all the world as though he were posting to the trot. He flew off abruptly as I ducked through the fence to set down the buckets, but I noticed that he didnt fly far...and sure enough, he returned to his perch shortly after Id left the immediate area and headed back to the barn. I spent the next couple of hours amusing myself by contemplating what kind of Pegasus would occur did someone cross a Haflinger mare with one of those odd little black birds...
Posted on: Mon, 20 Oct 2014 02:31:31 +0000
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