pony penning

Friends, I've been to Pony Penning Days. The event may sound familiar if you're a fan of Marguerite Henry's "Misty of Chincoteague."

I told myself and others that I was going because I really wanted my daughter to see the wild ponies. And that's true. But if you want something closer to the honest-to-goodness, authentic, turn the lights off and I'll tell you the truth, it's this: I've wanted to go watch the wild ponies swim and parade and do everything that I'd read in that book since I was a kid. A little, powerless kid.

The feeling, the thrill, the internal (and external) smile that the whole day was - even though it was a boiling 100 degrees outside - that is something that doesn't happen very often, I'm afraid.

I felt fulfilled.

Happy.

As I peered through the binoculars at the ponies plunging through the water and as they came so near as they paraded by, it felt right. Like, here's this piece that you didn't even know was missing and ta-da! it fits. And more importantly, it's really important that you have this piece.



watching the pony parade



ponies relaxing at the corral on the carnival grounds

 My pictures are less than fabulous. If you want to see fabulous photographs, check this out.

This takes care of #14.