Daisy and I drove over to see our Shetland ponies.  The boys were miles away and perfectly happy without us.  So we left them there.

Next was the mares.  Same.  Lyra remained unhugged, as did Zoot.  The herd was in a sheltered part of the field with masses of grass, and we drove off rather than walk miles and drag them up to stand miserably in the mud by the gateway.

It wasn’t all disappointment, though, as we saw some hill ponies on the way home.  They were grazing on the open scattald (hill) near a freshwater loch in the lee of the hill.  It was blowing a hooley so they were being very sensible in finding grass to eat in a sheltered spot.  Native ponies instinctively know these things.

I like hill ponies.  They are inquisitive and sometimes very useful.  A few years back we were exploring on horseback deep in the hill.  We were stuck and there bogs on every side – no way forwards and no way back.  Determined to keep going, we were trying to work out the safest route when out of nowhere a Shetland pony mare and her foal appeared.  They were unperturbed by our presence and walked carefully through the bog letting our horses follow while leading us to safety.  And then they disappeared.  It was a very magical moment and one I will never forget.  Shetland ponies know their way through bogs.

I was told that the Sandness road was built by releasing a herd of Shetland ponies and where they went was where the road was constructed.  Now how true that is, I really do not know. 

When the bad weather stops, we will try and visit Lyra again.