Passing Through

Originally Published December 14, 2021

It’s a soft Carolina evening. Half the herd is dozing. It’s tranquil at Lynnwood Farm.  The lessons are done for the day.  The farm hands have gone home.

Over forty equines, twenty-five of whom train after-school riders, live here at Lynnwood.  They are arranged in paddocks according to the social order of the equine world.  The Arabian, who pitched his owner after leaving his paddock of mares, is now settled down peacefully with a group of no-nonsense geldings.  New arrivals are carefully integrated.  There are donkeys, minis, mules and horses of every stripe and feather.  There are thoroughbreds, acquired in Kentucky for practically nothing, and developed by young instructors to be resold later for thousands. 

On any given night, half the herd is inside, the other outside under the stars. “Hot bunking” as the Navy calls it.  Everyone has a healthy winter coat, not too spoiled by the luxury of the barn.  They seem to prefer the outside, the company of other horses being important.  One lies down down, one or two stand watch, as donkeys keep an eye on the coyotes.

There are many stories that accompany each equine, the underlying theme being the undiscovered magnificent creature, saved from a fate of iniquity.  One wonders about the parts of the stories that are understood amongst the creatures themselves, in the careful silence that exists between them.

This is a way station for four-leggeds of all types travelling south for the winter. Last night a trailer arrived with two mammoth mules, a quarter horse and three dachshunds. Fur heaven…