Friday, July 29, 2022

Poem for Friday and Assateague Horses

From 'Mazeppa's Ride'
By George Gordon, Lord Byron

The steeds rush on in plunging pride;    
But where are they the reins to guide?    
A thousand horse—and none to ride!    
With flowing tail, and flying mane,
Wide nostrils, never stretched by pain,    
Mouths bloodless to the bit or rein,    
And feet that iron never shod,
And flanks unscarred by spur or rod,    
A thousand horse, the wild, the free,
Like waves that follow o’er the sea,    
Came thickly thundering on.

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On Thursday I finally managed to get the last trip laundry folded and put away -- it might have been sooner, but Effie spent a lot of time sleeping in the basket. And I'm mostly caught up on email and uploading photos, though there are a bunch of other post-trip chores I still haven't gotten to. I'm still taking it easy, so apart from taking a walk before the brief afternoon rainstorm, it wasn't a very exciting day. 

We watched a couple of episodes of Star Trek: Strange New Worlds around my usual Thursday night fangirl zoom call, and it's definitely my favorite of the modern-era Trek shows but at the same time it's not grabbing me the way The Orville does; the plots haven't been the greatest but I love T'Pring and at least it's not violating characters I love the way I felt like Picard did. Some of the ponies we saw on Assateague Island: 

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