Bad Boys on the Farm

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If this doesn’t look like a bunch of bad kids on the corner debating what kind of shenanigans they’re going to get into next, I don’t know what does.

As it happens, the 3 horses, Ghost, Silas and Dillon, are not bad boys at all, but were simply deciding who was going to get to play with who, and who was going to be the “odd man out.” (It was Ghost.)

These horses are among many more rescued by Mylestone Equine Rescue, a horse rescue near where I live, and whom I help with their web site, graphics and occasional photography. I had zipped over to photograph some great kids who’d raised funds for the horses, and as usual, couldn’t help myself from taking a few more shots around the farm. This one just seemed to have a story of its own going on.

If you like horses, you’ll enjoy reading about the outstanding job Mylestone Equine Rescue does in taking in and rehabilitating horses that have been starved, abused, abandoned, or were on their way to auction and most likely, slaughter.  Check out their web site

myleslucy-w1Did I mention some of them are just plain cute?  Here’s Lucy, inseparable friend of Peppermint Patty.

Living By Water

How lucky am I? I live 3 houses away from a river. And walking 4 very short blocks, I can walk onto the bridge that takes me to neighboring PA.

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Yesterday I went out walking for my exercise and decided to take my camera. Something I don’t do often enough. I was immediately drawn to the river on this sunny day – blue sky, no clouds. I headed onto the bridge, not to go to PA, but just to see the river. Even in winter, with not a leaf in sight, it was magnificent.

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I am happy when living by water. I am always happy to just be near water – the ocean, a lake, a river – there is something calming, inspiring and renewing about it. I wonder if this is universal or something belonging to just some of us. Is it because my family used to go the shore throughout my childhood and my Dad taught me to swim in the ocean? Is it because in my tween and teen years we used to vacation up at Highland Lakes every summer? Or perhaps that we used to go on a Sunday to Cooper’s Pond in the neighboring town and feed the ducks? I took some of my very first photos with my new Brownie camera there. Maybe it’s because I’m a water sign. Maybe I was once a mermaid. Maybe I am just forever enchanted by nature.

Our creativity, in whatever way we express ourselves, is influenced by all of who we are and who we have been. I believe when we reach inside ourselves and touch upon the good things, the meaningful things, in our pasts – or even find them for the first time – we are enriched in every way.  Yet we make so little time for these things … to let ourselves be with our own enchantment … to just let ourselves be. Today, for this, I thank the river.

Winter Whites

winterwhites1Was a time when I was young, I remember there was a fashion rule about not wearing white after Labor Day. Not exactly the consummate fashion person nowadays, I hardly know if that is still true or not. What I do know, is that in nature, the beauty of winter white is always in style.

Looking out my second story window, I noticed the breath of white that lay over everything, and snapped a couple photos. Snow was predicted within a few hours. The sky was losing its blue and had begun to spread the familiar white-grey hue that foreshadows fresh snowfall. The ground was still covered, and wisps clung to some of the bushes and branches. A fog had begun to lay in on the river and to shroud Pennsylvania on its far bank, just a pale shadow behind the trees. Soon it began to snow.

As we move in to February, we are, many of us, tired of the snow and icy weather and wishing for Spring. Much of that has to do with the fact that we all have places to go and the snow creates an interference with our plans. Excluding that, Mother Nature never disappoints in the beauty of freshly fallen snow, or even in its anticipation.

Catching A Catnap

It occurred to me the other day that the small fry in my life were getting far too little face time. In fact, they were getting none, and deserved a little respect. So what better time to catch them than just at the time when I settle down to work and they, with nice full tummies, settle down to catch that most cat-like of all endeavors, the catnap.

It was easy to catch Mewsette. Once she settles down for a snooze, she’s out like a light!

But then surprisingly, everyone else decided something interesting must be happening, so let’s pose! And Gypsy Rose started her on-the-back rolls and twirls which has earned her the nickname of Twirly-Girl.

Not to be left out, Claude, a.k.a. Claudie the Dog Boy, decided to sit up and get his mug in the camera. But it didn’t take terribly long for him to give it up and find his catnap spot on their favorite brown paper bag. He couldn’t keep his eyes open and was soon out like a light, too.

Ahhhh – but I did say face time, didn’t I?  OK, Mewsette, a beautiful tabby and white girl with kiwi green eyes, is the delicate soul of the bunch and so bonded to me that my moods become her moods. She is terribly devoted to me. I rescued her from Weequahic Park in Newark when she was about 9 months old. As cats go, she is the old soul, always wiser and more in tune, but sometimes in need of protection from the other two.

Gypsy Rose was another rescue from that park who’d been living in the adjacent cemetery; I snatched her while riding through one morning to work. She was 6 months old at the time. What’s so unusual about Gypsy is her tortoiseshell markings – she has touches on her face, chest and paw, stray hairs through her body, but all her bright, flashy colors are on her tummy! Gypsy is the top cat and the most independent.

I rescued Claude at the age of 5 weeks from a railroad bridge where he was waiting, no doubt, to be hit by a car or go over the edge and a 100′ drop. I hadn’t wanted a kitten, (because I would take an older cat, a pair that couldn’t be separated, a handicap, etc.), but felt he was meant to be mine. When I saw him run under the chin of my 12 year old pit bull terrier, Chloe, I knew it was true. Chloe raised him pretty much with her energy. He does all kinds of tricks no self-respecting cat would ever do, ergo the name, Claudie the Dog Boy, and is a bit on the goofy side.

Through all the paper bag and Twirly-Girl shots, Mewsette had only one thing in mind … her catnap. And a minor change in position.

Enchanted Garden

As the “official” photographer, I recently attended a wine-tasting event to benefit Mylestone Equine Rescue for whom I do graphics and volunteer work. While my most important task was to photograph the event for a local horse publication as well as Mylestone’s own newsletter and web site, I was so taken with the beauty of this farm, I just took more photos!

Enchanted is part of the farm name, and aptly so. It couldn’t have been lovelier. From the paddocks where horses grazed …


to one of the cottages on the property …

to a lovely garden, which, by late afternoon, was bathed in an almost eerie, but beautiful pink light.

The flowers along the side of the main house, Echinacea and rhododendron among them, were all pink-hued, and all but glowed in that light.

There was such a noticeable peacefulness here; any horses that have been so lucky to find their home on this farm have indeed found a bit of enchantment all their own.