It is still winter here, though we were taunted briefly with two warm days. With the cold, our hearts are brittled by loss of friends, a burden of the age we have been lucky enough to attain. Saturday, we went to Graham Chapel at Washington University to bid farewell to Kitty Hickey. The Episcopal service was a nice one, in a beautiful church. Kitty’s four children each gave a eulogy, speaking in their birth order, and it was one of the best and most personal sendoffs we have ever seen. Kitty’s sister read Wendell Berry’s wonderful poem, The Peace Of Wild Things, which contains the words I love… “I come into the peace of wild things who do not tax their lives with forethought of grief.”
On that note, here are some pictures of winter birds.
As for horses, though domestic animals, they can be wild things, too!
Before Kitty’s life was even celebrated, came news of Bobby Duffy’s death. He was a brilliant journalist, and a friend. Emily Pulitzer said of him that he “sparkled”, and that was true. The light in the world seems dimmed, though days are getting longer.
Harlan was here today to empty the dumpster. We had a good visit in the tack room, where Cora is always delighted to see her friend. As Harlan departed, snow began flurrying unexpectedly, and I hurried to tarp the dumpster before heavier snow arrives tonight.
Eddy and I went for a walk on Sunday to the south, where I had heard some heavy equipment. It seems they are doubling the power line easement. I’m afraid it is because the population is increasing at such a rapid rate. Even more worrisome, there was some activity I could see on the 80 acres adjoining us to the east. I dread the idea of that land being subdivided. I’m hoping the activity there had something to do with the power line project.
The land we live on was, of course, farmland, and we are part of a subdivision, so I am unrealistic to wish the building of houses would stop. But I have always disliked progress. I adapt and change, but am at heart a reactionary. Anyway, speaking of the land we live on, the third death (things always tending to happen in threes) was the death of Earl Requat, the Warren County farmer who sold us this beautiful place. The subdivision, though it doesn’t have a sign, is technically called Requat Farms. Earl was a character, and his son, Wayne, is a good neighbor, allowing us to ride around his hay field to our south. The old German farmers are almost all gone now, another inevitable change.
Our mailbox is 600 feet from the house. Harry and Eddy return from picking up the post…
We are blessed to have animals to keep us from succumbing to despair. I looked down at the pasture yesterday, and there were two deer grazing, with Bart. When I am riding Bart and he sees deer, he likes to act terrified, whirl and run away. I now have photographic proof that he is not afraid of deer, he just uses them as an excuse to terrify me!
Speaking of Bart, the swelling under his jaw has finally opened today. I have devised a way to keep the epsom salt gauze over the lump, hoping that we will get more drainage tomorrow. He’s not very happy about it.
And so, we muddle along, supported by our two good dogs and one Maltese cat, and luckier than we deserve to be.
Stay safe, stay well, be strong, and be kind. As Wendell Berry advises, “rest in the grace of the world”… Slava Ukraini! Peace.
I’m so sorry for all the friends you have lost. I know it must be hard on you. As always, I love all of your photographs. I especially like the cardinal ones since the Cardinal is the state bird of Kentucky and that’s where I grew up. Thanks for brightening up my evening as I read this and look at your pictures and at the same time I’m getting ready for the big snowstorm tomorrow morning.
I’m so sorry for all the friends you have lost. I know it must be hard on you. As always, I love all of your photographs. I especially like the cardinal ones since the Cardinal is the state bird of Kentucky and that’s where I grew up. Thanks for brightening up my evening as I read this and look at your pictures and at the same time I’m getting ready for the big snowstorm tomorrow morning.
I always love the photos, but today it’s Weedy that captured me. His look clearly states, really? You’re bothering me with that camera again? Losses are ineveitable, and at various ages. It’s the elderly that are lucky because they go in that late stage of life. We too attended a Celebration of Life last Friday. Phil Needham, husband of my best friend in Lexington. A remarkable man, egoless, Peace Corp volunteer who ended up in Kabul in his 20’s where he rode his first horse, and a breeder of KY Derby winner Mine That Bird. When Judy, his wife, and I spoke yesterday I told her about my horse’s death on the 23rd. She said, “Well, maybe now Phil has a good horse to ride.”
Who is out trudging through hideous weather taking care of things while birds of all feathers enjoy a buffet of seeds and dogs curl up by the fireplace or on a soft bed?
I too like Wendell Berry’s words. We beat ourselves up with grief even though we know it is better to celebrate the time we have with those we love. Maybe it is our burden to bear for being human. As always, I enjoyed the photos of birds and beasts – and humans!
Beautiful photos Anne!
beautiful blog Anne. the thoughts, words, sayings. All very moving and lovely.
Oisin is a bit of a devil. and Bart looked to be having a good time with it all.. even though he was nibbled.
one of my favorite photos is the flicker with finch in mid flight behind he/she.
I always love Harry smiling with a dog next to/on him.
They all warm my heart in these dreary times.
thank you!