Last week’s horse trials were sunny and beautiful. A soft fall day, with sparkling water reflecting fluffy white clouds in a dazzlingly azure sky. Only one layer of polar fleece outer ware was necessary, unzipped of course. What joy - sitting in a chair, chatting with friends as they passed while walking the course - shooting away while gleaming horses swept by for hours? It was the kind of weekend that reminds you just why you started loving this sport.
This weekend, however, I attended the last horse trials of the year. To be clear, it wasn’t the last horse trials of the year, just my year. The sky was grey, the sleet was flying, the horses’ coats were either dull from winter wool, or clipped. No shiny, glossy bodies flying around this day.
