So I've decided, instead of letting them digress further and risking injury to one of the boys, I need to spend time with them. Brushing them, patting them, talking to them, and--of course--feeding them. How else am I going to get them to come near me?
So Tuesday I grabbed a bucket and a lead and headed up to the barn where I enticed both horses into the barn.
As they chowed down I brushed and patted and talked to them. I could feel their muscles tense and more than once saw the whites of their eyes. I kept them in the barn for as long as they were comfortable, and let them leave when they no longer were. (My horse was terrified of my camera hanging by the strap on the doorknob of the tackroom).
It was so weird, though, forcing myself to be aware of their every body language, my every move, and even my position. I haven't had to worry about being pinned in by either of these horses since the mid-nineties, but that day I was. Better safe than sorry, but it was just weird taking these precautions with these two horses just in case they spooked when I've been so used to being on top, in front, under, and behind these horses with no problems. And they've always been fine with it because I keep a hand on them no matter where I am so that they know I'm there.
After a little interaction with the horses, during which time it rained, (another factor that I think tripped my horse out a bit, the rain on the tin roof got pretty loud there for a bit) I grabbed my camera and walked around my parents property and snapped a few pictures.
Keep in mind, my mom and sisters are the photographers of the family. Literally. They're professional photographers.
Their specialty is children.
Mine, if I were a photographer, would be nature.
I would love to be able to look around and capture the beauty and the stillness and the colors and the life that is everywhere in nature.
So, I decided to grab my camera and start working towards being able to do just that.
They're nothing great or wonderful, they're just home and they're things and places and views that mean something to me.
My Daddy built this barn by hand, by himself out of pine that he cut from our land when we were building our house.
Another shot of the barn.
The little pond out behind the barn.
Mr. Bo Jangles. My horse.
Ty in his truck pulling his Little Red Wagon behind it. (Papaw built a trailer hitch for his truck just so he could pull his wagon around.
Rain, rain, go away!
Grand-Daddy Long Legs hiding out under a fig leaf after an afternoon rain.
Ty playing in the grass.
The view from every angle in my part of the world. Pine trees everywhere.
Ty climbed in the Mini with Nana to help her drive it down the driveway.