Brena stopped, turned her head left, and stared. What had she seen? I looked across the field and spotted a white speck. A dead sheep perhaps? That's what white lumps usually are. It did interest the curious mare. But, no,... Continue reading

One image captures the simple variety that so endears these hills to me. See the wildness ever present at the fringes of this little populated swathe of chalk. Woods creep into the grass, mysterious and yet strangely tactile with texture... Continue reading

Here's the latest flyer for Karen and Olivia's journey, at least the part in England that I'm looking after. Continue reading

On Sunday I met a week-old filly, as yet un-named, who is the final progeny of my old stallion Doru, begotten in the last spring of his time on this earth. She's pretty and friendly, and those dark points are... Continue reading

I spent the weekend staying at a cottage in the woods. It's an ancient cottage, at least seven hundred years old, and perhaps much older. Records only go back so far. It's deep in the beech woods too. So deep,... Continue reading

Having a free day I resolved to head off and ride in the hills. It was windy at the barn. Upon the ridge the full force of a strong wind was upon us. With difficulty I held onto the trailer... Continue reading

The Riding Holiday Centre Handbook covers every aspect of this specialised business. Beginning with market research and planning, the handbook covers premises, choosing and preparing horses, tack and other equipment, and guiding skills. It continues with commercial management, marketing, working with agents, legal matters, and ethical considerations. After running through... Continue reading

The bluebells are blooming in the woods. Brena carried me along a delightful woodland path through a lovely carpet of blue and green. Clouds cleared away and the sun shone making for a pleasant outing. Continue reading

In token of Spring the hedgerows are white with hawthorn blossom. The trails are bone-dry and hard, for the chalk dries quickly. Basking in the sun I rode through a languid depth of silent afternoon heat. It was a joy.... Continue reading

Kate and I took a ride in Wiltshire, an hour from here by trailer and not fare from the stones and earthworks of Avebury. We needed to do a little map reading to find our quarry, which is the site... Continue reading

The chalk hill country conveys a sense of boundless space that the broad open trails can only confirm. One might be riding across the steppe, deep within the immensity of some vast continent, far from the nearest city. It comes... Continue reading

I enjoyed my first evening ride of the year. Brena enjoyed it too. Sometimes I wonder whether an hour really is long enough to ride that mare. After an hour she feels just nicely warmed up and ready to go... Continue reading

There's a most evocative photo on my desk. A pair of brown ears point across a field to a valley and on towards distant woods and hills. I captured that image on a July morning two decades ago in Moldavia,... Continue reading

It was St. George's day last week. Traditionally dragons appear in a village nearby. One even appeared in the telephone box. Presumably, in these days of ubiquitous mobile phones, nobody but a dragon needs to use the traditional variety of... Continue reading

I got to try out Brena's new saddle for the first time today. We were out for a couple of hours. It's a close-contact saddle with a tree individually fitted to Brena. Not only does this saddle fit her very... Continue reading

Two days indoors being trained. Thursday and Friday looking out at blue skies. Two days during which a little bit of me slowly died from within. You know how it can be for an outdoor person confined. At last the... Continue reading

I'll admit that the countryside still wears some of winter's clothes. Trees are rusty as iron sculptures with dead leaves as yet unreplaced. The fields, however, are bright with fresh growth. There is hope. The woods shall be renewed and... Continue reading

I spotted these old horseshoes on the wall of an outbuilding at Farnborough rectory, where the erstwhile poet laureate Sir John Betjeman and his equestrian wife Penelope Chetwode once lived. The larger shoes are huge - from Shire horses presumably... Continue reading

Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart. Try to love the questions themselves. Do not seek the answers, Which cannot be given Because you would not be able To live them. The point is, To live everything.... Continue reading

Brena went out without a rug for the first time this year. Did you just say that I've got myself rather dirty? (Yes I did, Brena. Now put your ears forward again.) It's nice out here with my friends in... Continue reading

I took Brena out using a borrowed soft pad under her saddle. It helped, at least enough to make the outing comfortable for her. The bruises from two weeks ago have healed and there was no tenderness in her back... Continue reading

The process of finding a path possesses a peculiar and compelling resonance for me. I spent years as a wilderness guide finding the way. But I understood the topography through which my group would pass and, most often, I knew... Continue reading

I got to spend most of the week away interviewing graduates for jobs. It's satisfying, matching individuals to roles. I've been through enough poorly conducted interviews to feel a keen desire to get it right. It's complex too, with a... Continue reading

Today Brena had a saddle fitting appointment. First a range of saddle tree templates were put on Brena's back. I had never seen this done before, and it was interesting to compare the shapes of the trees. Indeed it was... Continue reading

I've decided that Brena needs a new saddle. I've noticed some thickening of the skin around the front of the bearing surface. Now, after a longer ride, her back was bruised under the rear of the saddle. A saddler has... Continue reading