Deep in winter and summer, New England becomes monochromatic (white and green, respectively). Late fall is different; “stick season” has a broad, desaturated array of hues that stretch across the landscape.
A pony farm nestled in the hills of northern Vermont: with a ring and a pond by the house, what more can a young American dream of?
(At the moment I took this picture, the answer was, “snow.”)
Warm weather and buzzing insects on a June afternoon are perhaps a distant memory come February; they feel as alien now as this pony and rider walking down the street of Genessee Country Village did. There’s an almost-juxtaposition there.
When the weather outside is frightful (pardon the cliché), an indoor ring is good for two very important duties: (1) keeping the hay dry to feed the horses and (2) riding. This photograph has symmetry highlighted by the very bright windows; when a very bright light source shines through a lens (and it’s particularly noticeable with this prime lens), it creates an image of itself on the inverse side of the center of the image. In this particular case, that inverted image appears over the pony, indicating that the pony is across the inversion point from the window.
Homes designed to weather the fierce winters of northern New England and the North Country have a particular structure: Something vaguely Scandinavian and reminiscent of a Viking longhouse. When the sun sets and the clouds gather for our (current) proper winter, I’m glad for the equivalence.
Happy Holidays from Decaseconds! Piper’s wearing her Christmas plaid and looking fresh.
And a final shot of me riding Flapjack, a pretty awesome pony. (Though I’m out of focus, I think the center of attention is just where it needs to be: firmly centered on Flapjack.)
When the Grand Prix is over and the crowds are heading for the exits, the good horses go back to the barns to sleep.