Live Life

Up on the mountain at Donathin, the sky is overcast, but the sun is pushing up to brighten the day. The view makes me think of how big life is, endless memories clouded by feelings, good and bad, and bright possibilities on the horizon encouraging me to dream of the future. It is very apparent that I'm a mere particle in this thing called life.
I sit here, in the moment, my moment, in the middle of living. My heart swells with simply being. Have a "life is huge" kind of day.

Two short Hunt Reports that don’t do the adrenaline pumping runs justice. To say, “I ride with Green Creek Hounds” has a whole new meaning after today. We love our members.

2013 Labor Day Hunt

Brilliant run on a red fox. This run began along the creek below the Coxe Rd meet. Hounds struck on a line, raced up and across Solem Williams Rd near Nina’s Hunt Box. The huntsman and all three flights followed up from the bottom to the road and then moved down Solem Williams toward Peg’s place listening to the hounds roar in the valley behind Nina’s. The voices indicated the pack was moving toward White Oak Creek.

As they listened and watched, sitting at the corner of Peg’s, a red fox popped out of the far edge of the front field.

All viewers were so entranced by the fox as he ran across the large meadow, that not one person thought to take a picture! The hounds’ voices rolled from the woods and the pack flew into view soon after the fox crossed into the trees on the far side of Solem Williams Road. The pack was dead on the line. The entire field of first, second and third flight, around 30 riders, had a front row seat. No pictures, but plenty of excitement!

Off all went after the pack, back down toward the creek and back across Solem Williams and to ground behind Nina’s. Tot blew Gone to Ground and called it a day. Tally Ho times thirty, as that’s about how many field members viewed!

September 5, 2013,  Hunt at East Green Creek

Today, our Second Flight moved themselves up a notch and earned a new moniker, Second-First Flight. This was on an adventuresome run after a coyote. Charlie Erthal viewed first, not ten minutes into the hunt. Tot brought the hounds to the view and cast them. Off they went, voices strong into the deep woods. They circled about with all three flights in pursuit. The strong chase led up to the high point of that fixture.

There, Ron Piccari viewed the coyote crossing the forbidden field with the pack only about fifteen seconds behind. First and Second Flights were right there in the chase. At this time, third flight decided to call it a day and headed back toward the trailers.

The other two flights crossed a difficult creek, took a four-foot bank, and a very steep hillside, all in short order, to stay right with the Huntsman. Riders grabbed mane as the horses lunged up the slope and raced on. The run ended in the cattle field near our old East Green Creek II fixture.

Once they stopped, MFH, Kem Ketcham looked around and grinned. He was as excited about all the riders making it through the tough terrain as he was about the wonderful hound work.

The participants had a heart galloping good time and both flights will be talking about their awesome riding for years. It will be one of those, “Remember the Day” hunts, and they will smile just thinking about it. Both First and Second-First earned bragging rights.

Tally Ho and away we go!

See you Sunday at the Vineyard.

The Masters

Note: Because of throwing a shoe, most of the report from Sept 5, was told to this reporter after the hunt at the Stanley Circle. Listening to the hounds, and then so many excited voices, each telling the same great story, was like being along for the ride.

US Postal

Outside my French doors, danger lurks. Therefore, I'm off to the mountain for some writing and unwinding time after almost getting hit by a mail delivery lady on my own driveway.

She's been warned before, many times, to go slow on the blind curves because of horses and kids, but refuses to slow down to a speed that let's one see around the curves and still be able to stop at a safe distance. She was delivering to a lady who has a right of way off our drive. We don't mind the mail being delivered to the woman, she has trouble getting the mail at the end of the drive by the road, but, we do mind the postal driver treating our drive like a regular roadway.

Luckily, my horse didn't shy as she slammed to a halt less than 2 feet from my horse's, nose.  She actually yelled at me for being on our own drive. Went a bit postal, spouting she had a right to drive at the speed she wanted, and my horse shouldn't have been there. And, then jumped on me again on her way out the drive after delivery.

I complained at the local post office. Hope they do something, because it's just a matter of time before she hits another car, a horse, or a person. I doubt the US Postal Service http://faq.usps.com/adaptivedesktop/faq.jsp?ef=USPSFAQ&dest=EmailUs wants to deal with the consequences of that. Have a safe afternoon all.

Weather or Not

At 6AM, outside my French doors, the moon smiled, a tight-lipped sliver in the darkness. By 6:30 dawn showed the blush of a newborn day. At 7AM, bright white on the Eastern horizon announced the sun was here to stay and I prepared for an outside day.

No wait, it is  now 7:40 and rain dashes about as grey skies advance from the North. Mother Nature sure likes to keep our attention on her. Good thing, horses are in, feeding is done. I will sit back with a cup of tea and watch her show in hopes that will appease her. At 10:30, I have to take my Mother's cat to the vet for a rabies shot. 

The little cat excursion will create a storm of its own without added attractions. I can see it now,  Mother Nature tossing in lightning bolts, and rumbling, Me, Me, Me, to get my attention. I hope I'm wrong.

Have a great, unpredictable day, all.

McGyver

Outside my French doors, our Shepherd paces the length of the brick walkway, anxious, back and forth, back and forth. He's never quite sure where he should be when one of us is gone and one of us is in the house. His eyes hone in on mine. I can see the words behind them, "Do I come in and guard you, or do I stay here and watch for his return? He sighs and returns to pacing.
Such loyalty, such caring, he exhibits. I was lucky that day nine years ago, at Foothills Humane Society-Polk County, when a gangly pup came barreling from the outside run to inside my heart. Time for me to show I care. The bench on the front porch will be a good place to read and for him to lie by my side as we wait for Bob. Have a loving evening, all.

Child Play

Outside my French doors sits Summer. It's my favorite time of the year and right now Miss Summer is showing her gentle, sunny side, a perfect day. I want to go lounge in a chair under a shade tree and get lost in a good book, or run barefoot through the grass chasing butterflies.
I want the memory of childhood, the feeling of endless hours exploring the world, from morning until twilight when the fireflies come to signal  night is near. I remember dragging out the hose as a kid and skipping through the sprinkler. It is time to slip through my French doors to do something summery as an adult.
Instead of stepping back in time, I chose to clean my horse trailer, without the aid of a power washer, and visualize water spraying over me as I wet things down. It will be a mature way of recapturing a childhood moment, I think.
It is not right to turn a kid's memory into a something it is not meant to be. Crappy horse trailer, splashing water and me, do not equal fun. I turn off the water, job done, and drip my way back to the house. 
Lesson learned: Being an adult can take all the fun out of playing in the hose. 

Night and Day

Outside my French doors, I can't see a thing. Dark hides the stars, and the enticing shadows I normally see cast by the light of the moon. Disappointment blackens my mood, but then, I think of the day that has passed. Rain, clouds, sun, teased me with possibilities. It's easy to see in the light of day.
I chose to go to the mountain and write. Words came in bursts, changing with the movement of the weather. In the daylight, I could see the beginnings and the endings of ideas. It was possible to make a plan, and  plot a course.
In the night,  the beginning seems hidden, as does the end. It is a world of dreams, true adventures of the mind kind. As my vision adapts to the blackness of the evening, I begin to see. I realize, sometimes, in the darkest moment one can see the clearest.
Day and night combined can a moment in a life make, but also a lifetime can be realized in a moment. This concept hides in the ink of evening, eludes me in the darkness, yet I know there is something out there waiting for me to grasp its goodness and meaning. There is a reason for this night of no moon, no stars. Outside my French doors there is life waiting to be discovered.

I Am Animal

Most of my day was spent inside and by late in the afternoon I realized I was feeling a bit down. It hit me, I am an animal at heart. Life without being outside, is not living, it is existence, lacking the color, taste, and feel of being alive. I need fresh air on my skin to breathe, the sight of the sky to see, the brush of plant life to feel. It's simple, and such a wonderful thing, knowing what makes your heart sing. 

Tiny Bird Brains

Outside my French doors, life is full of surprises. Today, I went hunting with Green Creek Hounds. I was surprised, though I don't know why, that so many came after the night's/early morning rain. GCH has true fox hunting diehards as members. We had a blast and lingered afterwards, sharing snacks and stories.
Back at the farm as I was unloading my horse, I heard baby birds chirping. I looked up at the trees high above, over at the barn edges and could not find a nest. The babies sounded near, like they were in the trailer. I peered inside, though since I keep the trailer shut tight when not using it I couldn't imagine they'd be in there. They weren't. I was beginning to think I was developing a new form of ringing in the ears.
Using my not-so-keen hearing I crept around the trailer. I felt a bit silly, until, lo and behold, I found the nest in a most unlikely spot. Some silly momma made a nest behind the spare tire attached to the side of the trailer!
This is a trailer I use often, so those little puffballs have been traveling since they were laid. I can hear the babies, see part of the nest, but not all. The babies are not visible, but they are loud. I parked the trailer back in its spot and crossed my fingers.
I hope mom didn't have a heart attack while the kids were out cruising. The little peeps have quite a tale to relay to her. And, I imagine they lives are ruined. They will be speed freaks and not understand why they can't fly as fast as their mobile home. I can hear them now cheeping to each other. I'm sure they are saying, "Momma must be a real birdbrain."

But, not as crazy as this hummingbird, who stopped to read my husband's notepad!

Outside my French doors, summertime is back! No rain, no gloomy sky, simply sunshine and butterflies. I wonder if butterflies emerge from their cocoons, blink, stretch, and suddenly finding they are flying, hold their breath in delight at the metamorphous?
I wonder that about people, too, those who make hard choices and change things about themselves, then suddenly find their life is better, that they are soaring above all the negatives that had kept them anchored, do they hold their breath until they trust the new person they have become? I hope, if they do, it's not for long. Each breath is too precious to hold in. I hope they exhale with joy. I wonder about myself, the things that hold me down, then I glance again at the day awaiting me.
I stop pondering and imagine bare feet, cut-offs, and hair spun up out of the heat. Then, I make it happen. My own version of a summer metamorphous over, I open my French doors and step out to explore this spread your wings kind of day. Let's go fly!

Thorns Amongst the Berries

Outside my French doors it is berry season. There are wild raspberries on the mountain, blueberries on the farm, juicy little gifts from Mother Nature waiting to be picked and savored.
Blueberries are sweetest when I only take the ones that fall into my hand with the gentlest tug. I like to thank the kind bushes for making my job easy and try not to be greedy. They are generous shrubs and I enjoy the moments I spend in their midst. I am always reminded of the authentic givers amongst those people I know when picking blueberries.
Wild raspberry bushes are prickly misers. They guard their fruit, not wanting to share. It takes a keen eye and careful hand to deal with them. The little ruby colored gems they offer are often accompanied by pain. I do not spend much time in their company, despite the sweetness they promise.
I understand the bushes have thorns as a survival tactic. They are protecting their continuance in the world. Some people feel a need for thorns, too. But, I always wonder, why can't they be like blueberries, and survive without inflicting pain?
This is the time of year to savor the sweet and understand life a bit better. Some of life can be approached with an open hand and heart, some is better handled with an awareness of boundaries despite its attributes. I hope all enjoy the sweetness and avoid the thorns.

Traveling Home

Outside my French doors the noon of summer shimmers in the air. Animals lull in the shade of century old oaks. Sweat darkens the horses sides. Moisture from last night's rain is no more than a heavy memory.
I cast my gaze upward, where I will be soon seated in a 21st century jet headed to Chicago. It makes me thinkof frying eggs on a sidewalk while people hurry from one air conditioned building to another. High energy sparks from women's heels, and heat wets the back of shirt and tie men.

My heartbeat rises, then settles as a slight breeze tickles the honeysuckle. I listen to the silence that surrounds me. My daughter will surround me with love while I am in the city. It will be fun, and in five days, I will come back to the Foothills of North Carolina. I breathe deep, absorbing home before I leave.
Have a nice weekend, all, wherever you may be.

Horse Safety Public Service Announcement

This is my hunt in the video. Green Creek Hounds.

Trusting Kash

Kash and I had a nice ride today. He remained steady on the slippery ground and tolerated a furious attack of horseflies. We also had our first test of horse trusting rider. A small creek crossing had Kash at a standstill, feet planted, eyes large with fear of the mysterious bottom. I do not ride with spurs on Kash, as he is young and I want his training to be one of memories of team work not pain. I asked him to go forward over the water. He gave me one of his big eyes looks as if he was saying, "You've got to be kidding."

I kicked. He stood. It was time to muster my courage and be the boss. If I were to be the rider he needs, I could not retreat. I kicked his sides, again. He stood. This was make it or break it (me, when he realized he could refuse my bidding and explode) time. I could not fail him and I prayed our months of working on trust would mean he would not fail me.

I used my best "do what I say" voice and ordered him to move forward. HE DID!

Over the creek and onward to being a full partner in the world of horse and human he went. He moved with great energy after the crossing, exhaling all his pent-up anxiety, as did I.

We moved a stride closer to being better in both our lives today. I am so very proud of this young horse for overcoming many things and learning to be all he can be.
Hope you had a good day, too, all.

Almost Ireland

From lime to deep forest, the greens have taken over the landscape outside my French doors. It's almost Ireland, except Ireland has fewer trees. Squirrels bounce from limb to limb scattering leftover raindrops from yesterday. The horses are munching on breakfast and the dogs are restless to play. My gaze wanders over our land and I soak up the happiness if gives me. They say green is good for you, don't they? Light pierces the deep foliage and kisses my cheek. I listen to my husband's footsteps moving toward me. It's going to be a bright, bright sunshiny day. Enjoy.

Highs and Lows

The morning looks different when viewed from the mountain. More sky, less ground, a sensation of floating above the day to come, and fresh air invigorated. That is how I felt when I awoke for the first time at Donothin this AM.
Then, we came down to earth at the Waffle House where we learned they will be closed for two weeks for remodeling. Boo. But, making the best of things, we put in a request for bigger booths.
Next on the list was the farm. We were greeted by the animals that make us feel special and the chores that go with them. Dogs dashed to us, horses galloped to the barn and the cat vocalized her non-need of humans, but a loud demand for breakfast.
Mid-day I met a friend for a great trail ride. Half way through, horse on idle in the creek, I watched the current and let my thoughts stream through the joy I call my life.
A mountain and the foothills kind of day gave the term 'highs and lows' in my world a new meaning. I smile and say a silent Thank You as I wait to go meet friends at the Brick for pizza. Have a wonderful evening all.

Deborah K Bundy Writing From Misty Hill, Poems, Stories: I Will See You Again, thanks to Carrie Underwood for the Inspiration

Deborah K Bundy Writing From Misty Hill, Poems, Stories: I Will See You Again, thanks to Carrie Underwood for the Inspiration

Kash, "A Mudder? Surely, you jest."

Today, Kash and I joined my friend Janet Cummings and her horse on a trail ride. I was a bit nervous. Kash hasn't had many outings. Our first challenge came not long into our ride. Recent rains let mud behind. There in front of us was a huge orange mud Monster waiting to eat us alive. Or at least that's what Kash and Janet's horse, Deacon believed.
Janet and I looked at each other. I said, "This may be the shortest trail ride ever." Janet agreed. We both knew there was worse to come. After a few firm body language discussions, Kash and Deacon decided to take our advice. They minced through the mud. We gave them lots of praise.
Then, we came upon a small lake in the trail. Or at least that's what the horses thought. Kash looked back over his shoulder at me, as he likes to do, and said with those big brown eyes, "You want me to go in there?"
I straightened his head and gave him a nudge. He didn't budge. It appeared I could understand horse speak better than he understood rider signals. Eventually, the two horses, practically clinging to the trees on the edge of the trail, made their way past the puddle. I believe they decided, we'll go, but you'll get a few scratches for making us do it.
The day became one of lessons on walking through, around, and past water in all its forms, from small streams, to large puddles and mud monsters.
Near the end, Kash sashayed through deep mud with nary a glance, then peered back at me with a "did you see that" smirk.
Me, I gave him my best rider signal, a big, old hug. "You're such a Mudder," I said.

I Will See You Again, thanks to Carrie Underwood for the Inspiration

Outside my French doors this morning there was nothing but rain, so this afternoon we went up to Warrior Mountain. Mist coated weather passing, sun caressed the moment. It made me think of Carrie Underwood's performance last night on the CMT awards. Her heart was obviously with those still mired in the tragedies of the tornado, yet, she was able to express a firm belief in a better tomorrow. See you all then. May the vision, the moments of your tomorrows be filled with joy. Sweet dreams.

Big Orange

"Orange alert. Toad in the barn." Our tiny terrier, Mini Cooper signals by upturning brush boxes, dashing in and out of stalls and giving me that, "Why aren't you helping?" look. Sure enough, as I enter Kash's stall out hops a toad the color of red clay. Cooper rushes over, gives him a nudge. He makes a concerted effort to spring away, but this guy is fat. He's not going to win any high jump records. Cooper does the cold nose to hinny thing, again. The toad moves, maybe two inches. I finish my chores, grain delivered, water filled, horses brought in, then check on progress. Majestic Orange, as I've now named him has covered about three feet of concrete. Mini Cooper has lost interest and gone in search of lizards. She loves lizards, to chase and in taste.
The toad croaks.
I say, "If you don't get in shape, you will soon."
Lesson learned. Perhaps, I'll go to the gym today.