Late October Ride

(Waxing Poetic, with the help of Edgar A.)

The skies they were ashen and sober;

The leaves they were crisped and sere -

The leaves they were withering and sere;

That passage from Poe's Ulalume pretty well describes today.My cousin Mary stopped by to ride Melody this morning. Mel hadn’t been on the road for a couple of months. But her hoof abcess had long since healed and while she wasn’t (thankfully) rarin’ to go, she went.

 It was night in the lonesome October

Of my most immemorial year:

Don’t know that this is my “most immemorial year,’ but it’s still October, and it’s night as I post this.

It was hard by the dim lake of Auber,

In the misty mid-region of Weir—

It was down by the dank tarn of Auber,

In the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir.

Well, the lake in my area is Smith Mountain Lake, which isn’t exactly a tarn (a small mountain lake). It’s a doggone big lake.

The morning fog for the last week, however, has indeed made the region pretty misty. As for ghoul-haunted, there’s Hainted Holler down the road a mile, but there was nary a ghoul to be seen today. In fact, the ghost of Jesse Chapman, the former resident haint, hasn’t been seen for more than fifty years.

Hainted Holler: the light-colored object to the left is an old dog, not a ghost.

Even the graveyard just down the road apiece didn’t spout off a fireball as it is reported to do on occasion. The buzzards who gathered were after the remains of yesterday’s roadkill possum.

Since I have nothing spooky to report, I’ll just post the pictures of Melody and Mary trucking along.

Just before Mary and Melody pass Hainted Holler, which is to the left of the road.

Coming down Blacksmith Road.

Turning from Blacksmith Road onto the trail.

Vanishing into the woods and starting a run to the top.

Just before they came out of the woods, they flushed the biggest buck I've seen.

Too bad I didn't have the camera ready.

Getting ready to cross the road to Polecat Creek Farm.

Approaching the trail that leads to the bottom.

Vanishing into the woods again.

After Mary and Melody headed for the bottom, I drove home. I figured if they didn't return within an hour, I'd come looking for them.

A half hour after I returned home, I heard Cupcake hollering. I figured she must have realized Melody was gone. Soon, every time Cupcake hollered, I heard an answering whinny from the other side of the cow pasture. Sure enough, it wasn't long before I saw Melody.

 You can just barely see her.

  

But soon she appears and heads for the turn toward home.

Mel hollers to answer Cupcake. Ruby the dog joins Melody.

Horse, rider, and dog approach home—just the other side of the burning bush.

Melody was ready for a nap when she got home. Mary probably was, too. They were dog-tired, but Ruby the dog still had lots of energy.

~