I spoke too soon about the snow. This afternoon it again began to fall, was snow, then a rain-snow mix, then snow again. Pete and I went riding—he rode Raudi, I rode Siggi, and we ponied Signy. Blissfully quiet, the snowmobilers had decided to go elsewhere. When you know that you might lose quietude, say, to a coal mining operation, you tend to value it even more. There are not many areas in the world left that are like ours.
It was fun watching Pete ride Raudi, something I don’t often get to see. She moves nicely, is well balanced—works the bit like a trained horse. However, she will still assert her will. Pete knew this, and stayed ahead of her when we went to turn onto Murphy Road. He got her to move out, rather than slow down, which was what she wanted to do.
We came home and shoveled off the horse shelter roof. Pete used one scoop, and I used the other. It was dusk, and so all the snow looked like a light gray mass. As I was pushing the snow over the edge, I watched the horses, who moved out into the larger area. The snow’s so deep that both Signy and Raudi were near up to their bellies. Tinni and Siggi didn’t venture that far.
The roof shoveling used to send them running, but no more. They just moved out of range and waited to move back into range.
Pete shoveling off horse shed roof