The days are fuller in the spring and summer than they are in the fall and winter. Here it is, 11:32 p.m., and I am writing the day’s dispatch. In the winter I do this around 7:00 p.m.

I am going to bed later and getting up earlier. The sun is up and so am I.

This morning, a rude awakening. I first heard the dogs bark and then heard clippy clopping. Pete sat up and said, “I think there’s a baby moose out there.” He then said, “No, there are horses out there!” whereupon I sat upright and saw two horses racing up Oceanview Road. One was a pinto, and I presumed that it was Hrimfara. Then two more horses raced by, and I thought, last I knew, we had three horses.

Other people's horses

I got dressed, ran outside, down to the horse pen. Our three horses were okay. And now that the others had gone by, they resumed wondering where their breakfast was. So I fed them and ran in the direction of the gate, which I secured last night. I looked both ways and did not see any horses.

I ran back to my car, got in, started it, and drove towards Murphy Road. At the top of the first rise was a woman riding a dark chestnut horse. Four other horses, who were dragging their lead ropes, followed. She was riding bareback, with a halter and a lead rope. She didn’t have a helmet. I estimated her to be in her twenties.

I didn’t waste time on friendly greetings. I instead asked if the horses were hers. She said yes and that her family owned the property down the road with the two cabins. This sounded nonsensical to me, I mean why would I care about this?

She continued to ride, and I walked behind her, deep in thought. My suspicion, that she was an irresponsible second generation horse owner, was confirmed as she rode into Rafter T’s place. Her mother had horses here many years back, and yes, every so often they got loose; often they were in search of hay.

The rider told me that she was going to get her horse trailer and come back and pick up the horses. The question that I didn’t get a chance to ask was, why wasn’t the trailer on site? Sounded to me like she intended to keep the horses on the premises.

I do not think that she came back and got the horses. I’ll bet they’re still there.

After breakfast, practical Pete went and nailed our downed fenceposts back on their posts, pretty much assuring that there isn’t going to be any interaction upon our and their equine kind.

I have this theory about people like those who are taking up residence in places that they’ve temporarily abandoned, and this is that this occurs when economic times get tough, which is now the case.

I hope (there’s that word again) that the horses are gone and that history is not going to repeat itself.

Next: 184. 7/7/25: Abandon Hope, all ye who enter here