In which the farrier is a "morning person", so I greet sunrise

My farrier is an older gentleman who prefers to get all of the day's work done by noon. You would think that would indicate that he'd grown up in the South, or even in Mexico, where smart people siesta during the heat of the day.

In reality, he was born about 15 miles from here, and has spent most of his life in the Northern Swamplands. He's just a morning person, I guess. Bah.

In December, the sky is light, but the sun hasn't quite cleared the trees on top of Ebey Mountain yet, and the frost is still thick on the ground when he arrives at 8am with his tools.

(A NOTE ABOUT EBEY MOUNTAIN: by local standards, it's a hill. It's not prone to volcanic eruptions and doesn't have snow on it most of the year. Therefore, it's a hill. However, the first white settlers to the region weren't from here, and it looked really big to them. That's why the rocky outcropping to the east of our house, which rises 1600 feet above sea level at the highest point, is called a mountain on all the maps. It sounds much more impressive than it really is)

By 8:30am, the mares' feet were trimmed up and pronounced "beautiful", and the sun was almost up.

And, hooray: no rain in the forcast for today and most of tomorrow! A good opportunity to walk around the yard with the camera.These poor roses didn't time their bloom very well. The rest of the plant has died back, but these little flowers decided that a rose in December might still squeak through....

The last of the apples, knocked down and only partially eaten by the local deer.

It doesn't matter how many hours I spend raking leaves around here, the bigleaf maple in the front yard always has more to throw around. They are pretty in the frost, though.

Down in the pasture, the sun is up at last--it must be time to go riding!