Notes from Maine - 2026/06/28
Earlier this year, Mom hung a wonderful begonia from the hook on the front porch. I sit out there in the afternoons, or whenever there’s a decent thunderstorm to watch. That plant is so big and vibrant, bursting with flowers, that it almost looks fake. A month ago, when I was watering Mom’s hanging begonia, I was startled by the flutter of wings. I took down the plant to discover a nest with four eggs. Now, the nest has four little nestlings. They might be Chipping Sparrows. My presence doesn’t scare away the little bird parents anymore. While I’m sitting on the porch, the parents come and go. The cheeps of the nestlings are impossibly high-pitched, just at the limit of my hearing. They clamor for food whenever a parent returns.
Out in the barn, the horses are much less subtle.
Lilly (little filly) has gone stir crazy. Only nine days have passed since her hernia surgery, so she has almost four more weeks of incarceration before she can run through the pasture again. The pent-up energy bakes off of her whenever I go near the stall door. She’s ready to burst through the gate and run me over if necessary. I have to put a halter on her and lead her by hand just to move her from one stall to the next without an outburst.
Her mom (Maybelle, the seasoned mare) is weary of confinement as well. I decided a while ago to let Lilly wean herself, and I think this recovery might have already done the trick. Mother and daughter are so sick of each other’s company at this point that I won’t be surprised if they take some time apart after they’re released.
Earl (big, goofy Shire stallion) has the pasture to himself but he only uses ten percent of it. He never strays far from the barn. At all times, he’s able to enter the rear door into the adjacent stall so he can poke his head around the wall and see his family. He spends most of his time in that stall to be close to them. Earl has never been a huge fan of brushing and grooming, but that has changed markedly in the past week. A stiff brushing is the closest he gets to physical contact with his herd, so he stands patiently. They’re all doing well. This healing process was going to be difficult at any time of year, but I got really lucky with the weather so far. We’ve had cool nights and reasonable daytime temperatures. Everyone has been comfortable in the barn.
The veterinarian came out last Thursday for a checkup and to remove the “stent” from Lilly’s incision. The skin and abdominal wall were stitched together and then a big gauze pad was sutured overtop to provide some protection and additional structural support. Everything under that gauze was a mystery to me and I worried what the veterinarian might find underneath. I held my breath as the vet cut it free. Everything was fine. There’s no indication of infection. Pictures sent down to the surgeon got a response of, “No sign of anything concerning—healing as it should.”
I exhaled and felt my heart rate drop a notch. I’ve been worried about Lilly all week. She has remained bright-eyed, chipper, and full of energy, but I feared something would go wrong. With my concern evaporating, I’m left to deal with managing her exuberance until she can go outside again. That will be a very happy day.
When the horse family is back together, roaming the pasture, I’m going to have to remain vigilant for a while. Earl hasn’t been grazing the whole field, as I mentioned, and we’ve had plenty of rain. For the first time in years, the grass is growing without being immediately munched. The horses, accustomed to hay, will need to be reintroduced slowly to fresh grass. Too much of a good thing can give them stomach aches.
I’ve been calling Earl, “Old One Shoe.” The farrier put a shoe on one of his rear feet to stabilize a crack. It’s the first shoe he has ever worn. The farrier was supposed to return to do the other feet, but hasn’t come back yet. I guess his feet require an uncommonly large shoe. Go figure—he’s an uncommonly large person.
Summer marches on.
