Monday

Looking across the garden towards Perranuthnoe


I opened the door this morning to a wall of all encompassing bird song, delightful in the low light of dawn that each day is moving precariously nearer to the time that I have to be out and about feeding the horses. Each day the daylight grows shorter and we enter the womb like state of winter, relishing the time we spend wrapped within the Barns sturdy granite walls.

But back to this morning where the world was shrouded in a mist, cocooning us against the world in a gentle blanket of swirling white. The mares had arrived at the bottom of the garden for their breakfast Diva and Dolly had newly applied a thick layer of mud and as usual Diva refused to eat with the other horses but stood looking mournfully at me until I carried her food over to her in a tub - no wonder she didn't run very well on a racecourse a crowd of other horse would have been hell for her!

Spud-the-new-cat continues to eat us out of house and home and making occasional forays up into the horse's barns overhead beams between meals, often sitting looking down into Danni the Stallions box or wailing mournfully to be rescued because like all cats up is so much easier than down. And that was our gentle day today at Ednovean Farm in the quiet rhythm of winter, a season for just waiting and watching and following the moods of the day.