On the Fringes

I found I can make a three-mile loop behind the housing development next door, and while it's not much for conditioning, it's a nice change of pace for the days we aren't doing heavy work.  The same old soyfield gets pretty boring when you hack around it week after week.

This loop is like riding through a series of before and after pictures -- part wilderness, part construction site, part family-friendly neighborhood.  The same paved road has a shiny SUV parked next to a manicured McLawn, a well-oiled bulldozer resting next to the hill it made yesterday, and a rusty old truck cab with weeds growing out of the dashboard.  There are deer tracks in the mud, next to a dog-and-human duo's marks, and now, a trail of barefoot hoofprints.  There's a path or two still completely untouched by machines, at least for the time being. 

Even the weather is stuck in limbo, shifting between gray and sunny, winter and autumn.  I can't complain about the recent spree of friendly temperatures, but the loss of daylight is feeling inexplicably rough.  

I'm feeling rather in-between myself, in a place I've stagnated over the past few years:  kid and grown-up, show and trail rider, pro and ammy, staff and boarder... I need a direction.  I need a change of scenery.

At least I have a place to wander while I clear my head.  

And some good companions to wander with me.