The solstice weekend was the occasion of a riding group outing to Wiltshire, a westward extension of the chalk hills. It's an area of plentiful riding trails, most of them quiet and many grassy. This one was bordered by a surprising field of purple poppies, an unusual crop in a land of meadow and cereal.
The weather was hot by English standards, and we were out for several hours. Knowing the trail, I had a good idea where water was to be found, An accustomed trail horse, Brena is quick to drink from troughs and puddles along the way. This old trough in a hay meadow provided her with a welcome drink, however the other horses needed more coaxing. What was this metal thing lurking in the long grass?
Fortunately there are troughs scattered about, a still-functioning legacy of a recent past when a greater head of livestock was reared on these hills. The effort to install mains water pipes out here must have been considerable. A landowner told me that he doesn't know whose supply feeds some of the troughs. That may be a good thing - if someone knew where these disused troughs were fed from, they might disconnect the supply.
I took a couple of water bottles for my use too, and was glad for them, drinking the best part of a litre through a hot late morning and early afternoon. Summer most definitely is here.
An old bottle emerged from my grooming box for the second time this year to provide sun lotion. I needed that too. To prove the point, a fragment of skin that I missed on an arm burned red.
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