Rain, the Art of Fantasy, and Various

[dancinghorse]

Raided from suricattus: Le Guin (my favorite essayist in the world, and one of my very most favorite writers) does it again. Go forth, ye writers and readers, and read.

The days keep being too short to do everything that needs to go into them. Yesterday keed got a morning ride, and Capria an evening one, and Camilla insisted on taking me for walkies. Keed wore the sidepull and meandered around the washes. Capria and I agreed that I can ride, I just have to pay attention. And Camilla is into taking the world by storm. Scared of it? Charge!

The weather is very unusual for us--almost seaside weather, rather humid with a lot of clouds, some thunder, occasional rain. Early yesterday morning, I woke up and looked out. Sun was shining, clouds billowing, wind blowing. I got splashed with rain. Later on we had a squall--not much rain but enough to lay the dust and speckle the horses' rumps.

Much work is being done.

This morning I ponied keed off Capria. It's more cloudy today, with a lovely cool breeze, perfect weather for riding. The birds are going bananas. Lizards prefer hot and dry--birds love overcast and not so hot. Apart from the usual varieties of doves (large and small--mourning, white-winged, and ground) and all the assorted quail families, I've seen vultures (riding high), cactus wrens, sparrows, a pair of towhees that live in the barn, a small flock of bronzed cowbirds(males glossy blue-black with fiery red eyes and a permanently pissy expression, females much smaller and slighter and greyish brown), a couple of grackles (the flock hasn't moved in yet), a roadrunner, a couple of different kinds of thrashers, something rose-breasted that doesn't really look like a grosbeak but is in that category, an assortment of robin-sized greyish-brown birds that fly off too fast to identify, and in my yard, no less, a hooded oriole.

Comments

[christymarx.livejournal.com]

Apropos of nothing, I thought you'd find this piece of horse description amusing. And I love the name!

"By that time Hellzapoppin' had both ears pointed, and was snortin real low. Don't you know that horse never moved while I slapped the saddle on in nothing flat. In a proper corral I would have had to fight him an hour. There is nothin old Hellzapoppin loves better than to out run, out smart, and out last a sheriff."

Excerpt from HEAP OF LIVIN'

[dancinghorse.livejournal.com]

What a hoot!

I think Camilla is the reincarnation of the Hell Bitch, myself--the grey Kiowa war mare from Lonesome Dove.