So far, two of my lessons have ended due to thunderous downpours.  And they are thunderous.  Storms are bigger out in the country than they are at our home in the ‘burbs. The tilled fields give the viewer a broader look at what’s incoming (big dark clouds) and the trees seem to flail more than the suburban trees.  It gets quiet  (and by “it” I mean the air, the insects, the general milieu of the outdoors).  Almost too quiet.  I wondered if Mopey said to Ginger, “Ginger, it’s gone quiet!” and if Ginger said, “Yep, almost too quiet.”

Both horses were pretty well behaved though as the storm approached.  I think I was more nervous than Mopey. And as lightening flashed e, I dismounted and brought him inside for a treat and a brushing.

Since it was raining so hard, I hung out for awhile and waited for the rain to slow down some rather than to chance the soaked roads and test the zero visibility.  I helped Lean hand around the evening’s rations of hay.  When we were done, I joined one of her daughters who stood half-in and half-out of the rain, catching water in our hands and cleaning off the itchy grass seed from our arms.


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