I’ll keep this one mercifully short. I went out into the country again today with no intention of posting anything. That changed when I snuck up on a big horse and managed to trick him into posing for a picture.
I’ve heard horse owners speak of the height of their horses in terms of “hands.” One hand on top of the other until you reach the top of the horse — that’s how tall it is. I’d just use a tape measure, but I guess that probably wasn’t an option back when that tradition began.
I’m not sure how many hands tall my bike is, but I’d estimate the horse is at least five hands taller. I’m not too sure of myself when measuring in “hands,” just as I’m not too sure of anybody who measures out two or three “fingers” of tequila.
But really, the things that really caught my eye today were the clouds–big, marshmallowy puffballs of clouds with exotic shapes. They were just sitting there in the sky, barely moving, rarely shifting.
I searched my brain for a song about being out in the country that hasn’t already been featured here. Aha, “Out In the Country” by Three Dog Night. Oh wait, that’s been done. So has Neil Young and my hippy favorite “Goin’ Up the Country.” All I could come up with was this anti-country song from city boy David Byrne and his Talking Heads friends.
Did you know David Byrne was a bicycle rider. He even wrote a book called “Bicycle Diaries” in which he wrote about cycling in various cities all over the world.