The Old Buggy

I took some pictures the other morning of sunrise.  The night fog left ice crystals on everything standing still in nature.  The snow on the ground and the beauty of the ice crystals made the morning breathtaking.  I took pictures of trees, the sun coming up and my old horse buggy.  The buggy is an ornament in the front of our house.  It hasn't been used in many years, I recall when I last sat in the seat, driving my pretty little quarter horse mare, Gypsy. 

I drove my horse and buggy to their new home and the place we have called home for thirty five years now.  We moved only a couple of miles from one house to the other and it made sense to just drive the horse and buggy to our new house.  Gypsy was a beautiful dark bay horse, some might have called her black.  She had a nice little white blaze going down her face and a beautiful black mane and tail.  She was the perfect size and was very smart.  She also was the first foal we ever raised.  I am sure all the attention she got as a baby was one of the reasons she was so sensible and good natured.

When I was pregnant with our first child, I continued to ride horses as long a possible.  When it became difficult to ride, I resorted to driving my little mare.  One day my husband and I were out on the road in the buggy, just going for a little ride, for fun.  In those days our country roads were not traveled as much or as fast as they are now.   We were coming back toward our driveway and a car was coming toward us.  It happened to be a friend and they stopped to chat.  We were heading west and they east, our talking continued until we had the scare of our life!  A motorcycle came from behind, I don't remember even hearing him.  He never stopped and gave no warning.  He just drove his motorcycle between our horse and buggy and the car!  We sat there open mouthed and stunned.  My wonderful little horse never moved a muscle.

It was only after the event that I realized what a fragile position we were all in at the moment the motorcycle passed between the car and us.  Horses that become frightened are not easy to control and our little buggy was not made for a frantic flight down a paved road.  It came to me after this event, I would never be comfortable in a buggy or wagon again. 

I have wondered now and then why my horse didn't run in fright.  What made her stand so quietly?
And so the buggy rides were abandon in the early 70's.    The buggy also appears abandon and yet it brings back to me the memory of  my sweet, trusty little mare, Gypsy.