Susanna J. Sturgis   Martha's Vineyard writer and editor
writer editor born-again horse girl

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It's Really Raining!

September 15, 2005

Really really raining -- the Edgartown-Vineyard Haven Road's wet enough to reflect headlights, and I had to towel Rhodry off when we came in from the barn. To think I ever thought it a nuisance to have a wet dog in the house!

Early this afternoon we had a pathetic little sprinkle, as in "Damn, is this one going to miss us too?" Around five, when Allie and I headed out for the state forest, it was sprinkling again. Real thing this time, maybe, please?

Maybe we should take a shorter route, in case it really rains? No no: in that case it won't rain at all. Carry on riding; make it rain, make it rain longer and harder. We hung a left off the Stoney Hill Road, up the rocky hill through the woods, trotting along in total sync whenever the footing was good, which was often.

It started to sprinkle again, with authority this time, gathering strength as we rode a loop through the woods and rejoined the bike path. Oh wow, my tank top was getting wet from the outside in instead of from the inside out . . .

We came out of the woods at Stonehedges Farm. A sprinkler was on in the pasture. My buddy Elaine was out and about, bringing horses in, getting ready to feed. She wasn't turning the sprinkler off: if she turned the sprinkler off, the rain would stop. We chatted a bit, then Howie the venerable Thoroughbred and Manoog the yearling Friesian started squealing at each other. Allie and I headed down the hill, through the woods, and onto the dirt road that leads through Chicama Vineyards. The light was glorious in an eerie way, or eerie in a glorious way -- muting prematurely fall colors, dusty green, dusty russet, and the rain pelting down. Oh yeah, it's coming coming coming . . .

We trotted through the vineyard till the patch of gravel near the wine shop, then slowed to a walk so Allie would be cooled down enough for supper when we reached the barn. Allie's homecoming walk isn't exactly slow, however; it's as if she's leading a parade, or an incoming wave.

Ginny had put hay out. I untacked Allie and rubbed her down, then put her in her paddock and poured grain for all. "All" is down to three now: Justin, one of the summer boarders, left yesterday. Dark was well fallen when I drove out the barn driveway, looking out at the front pasture and thinking, Grow, grass, grow!

 

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