Today was
Horseman's Sunday on the top of St Martha's. I went with Sid, so I wasn't on my own.
The ride up was uneventful , as Sid knew the route from a couple of weeks ago. He is such a good horse. On the way we caught up with a whole clutch of riders, who I thought might be going up to the service. But they weren't, they were a riding school riding all their horses and ponies back to their grazing. They stopped right on our route, unsaddled, put ponies away, they were scattered here and there all over the bridlepath.
We're just approaching the horse traffic jam here: St martha's Church is just visible on the hill in the distance, slightly to the left of where the track is pointing.
Sid squeezed his way through without complaint and headed away from the whole big group, again without complaint. He was a bit jittered though, so when we stopped at the ford he didn't want to drink, just kept looking around to see if any of the others had come with.
We rode up the steep stony track to the top of the hill. The whole trip took us an hour and 10 minutes, so we were half an hour early!
Sid is mesmerised by the view from the top. I am sure he can smell home, he always looks in that direction.
I got off and led him to water, but alas, I couldn't make him drink.
The place filled up with people. Lots of people came to pet and admire Sid, which he accepted with equanimity. He and I got a nice position at the start of the line of horses waiting for blessings. The horses stand outside the churchyard, looking in:
The people and dogs are inside the churchyard, looking out:
The vicar said the verses from Job relating to horses, read a poem and said a prayer, all lovely and all horsey. When he came to Sid first and blessed him saying "may the Lord bless you, may He turn the light of His face upon you" and anointed him with holy oil, something grabbed me by the throat and I cried and cried. I couldn't stop! It was very embarrassing.
I do know what grabbed me by the throat. It was how much I love Sid.
Anyway, once I had pulled myself together, we collected our rosette, left the big party of horses (there must have been 30) and set off for home a different way.
At the bottom of this bridlepath we met a scrum of tourists all trying to decide which way to go. Just beyond them was one of the few, the very few gallopy fields in our area. Sid passed through them, snuffling hands left and right (his equivalent of the Royal Wave). Then we went into the field. He saw the field. He flicked an ear and stamped. I said "Shall we?" And we were offf! Such a gallop! The fastest we have ever been together.
After that the ride home was a bit of an anticlimax, but my friend Carol met me and took a picture for us:
Sid was sweaty when we got home, after nearly 4 hours. I washed him off and gave him a second feed and turned him out, whereupon
Then he came up with the usual Sid expression: "If you don't have food for a cob, what's the point of you?"
Grumpy git. Whom I love.