foals reunited

The end of last week was uncharacteristically warm for the time of year, and I had a snuffle. I slouched indoors for most of Saturday, but felt ready to test myself against the elements on Sunday morning, in pursuit of some contemporary reading. Turning the corner of our road, onto the main road towards the village centre, I realised that I had left the house without a tissue in my pocket. I sniffed.

Another hundred yards and I was following a pony along the road; a mare who was evidently a bit distressed, whinnying and tossing its head around. I guessed it had lost its friends and tried to remember if I'd seen a group of ponies on the green as I turned right, but no. We walked side-by-side a little and then I drew ahead and then heard an answering whinny from a foal; the situation became clearer.

Another local resident was just on their way out to find out what was going on, but I could see that the foal had got itself stuck on the lawn of the electricity board. The pedestrian gate to this property has a broken latch and once in a pony can't open it to get back out. The foal had evidently nosed the gate open and then got trapped. The mare was still a little way off, but now the two were closer, the panic had subsided a little. I propped the gate open and tried to persuade the foal that way, but it skittered along the fence line, failing to see the escape route. I tried to show the gate by walking out and making encouraging noises, but by this time the mare was patrolling the other side and the foal was distracted. I managed to move the mare so that the two could meet at the gate and the foal, after a reassuring nuzzle, walked slowly through the gap. The mare of course, realising the length and quality of the grass on the other side, walked straight in to the enclosure.

I went back in, hoping the foal would stay still, which it did. The mare was easier to corral than the foal, less nervous of humans and probably used to being chased off people's lawns. After a couple of feints, she ducked back out of the gate and the family walked off up the road, keeping close. I was streaming by this time, so I had to improvise with some grass to clean my hand up, before heading to the shops again.

On the way back from the village, by a different route, I surprised a squirrel on a fence. It evidently hadn't planned an escape route from its position of sitting on top of a fence that terminated in an open gateway. The nearest tree was just a shrubby thing and when it leapt in panic it fell straight through the foliage and had to leap back onto a trunk from the ground. I expect it felt embarassed about this all day.

I passed, what I always regard as the most beautiful tree in the village in autumn, an ornamental acer. Tired and emotional with my snuffle, it took me by surprise and took my breath for a second. It looked like a tree dipped, one side, in drying blood and then replanted with hardly a leaf out of place. I plucked one of the rare fallen, stained leaves to take home with me.