I thought I might make the next few blog posts some small story snippets from my time in Field Board that didn’t quite make it into the memoir.
The first is a visit to Red’s field during the early summer, right about this time of year four years ago. I was standing out in the field with the herd, walking along step by step as they swung their way from one end of the field to the other. The wind was picking up and it felt like rain, but there was no thunder to be heard, so I opted to stay in the field until the rain actually showed up.
I mention in the book that Red didn’t like being out in storms. I could never tell whether this was because he disliked getting wet or was afraid of the thunder and lightning. I know there have been pasture accidents where horses are struck by lightning, so maybe Red witnessed this at some point. It’s also possible that he was brought in every time it stormed when he was younger, so he associated storms with being under shelter. Who knows.
He was chancing it along with me this time. They were all still grazing when it started to sprinkle a bit. He didn’t look up as I began plodding back over towards the run in, not wanting to leave the peaceful field. I had no raincoat with me. I didn’t want to drive home soaking wet.
Suddenly the drops got much bigger.
“Oh no.” I whispered under my breath.
I heard the deluge hit the tin roof of the main barn at the other end of the property.
“OOOOH NO.” I wailed. I began sprinting towards the run-ins.
From behind me I heard the pounding of heavy hooves join the pounding of heavy rain. As I hit the paddock fence and practically vaulted over it, Red and Matteo came tearing around the corner and through the open paddock gate. We all staggered into the run-in at the same time, seconds before the deluge, snorting and blowing out big sighs at beating the rain.
“Not too bad for wimpy human legs.” I thought to myself.
The rest of the horses had stopped at the fenceline and stood staring at us through the downpour, rivulets of water running off their backs and down their faces. I’m not sure I’ll ever know why some horses detest getting wet and others don’t mind it. Matteo would probably have been right out there with the rest of them if he weren’t such good friends with Red. As for me, I made it back to my car only slightly damp after the rain stopped. A successful visit.
Read more adventures with Red, Matteo, and other horses I have known in Standing in a Field With Horses.
Maeve Birch Home 