An Hour at Chincoteague

Chincoteague was one of the places Paul and I went on our childless vacation last month. My sister Jill has a friend whose generous parents let us use their beach home in Virginia about a half hour from the island famous for its wild ponies.

I was hoping to see the creatures of Misty fame up close and personal. I got neither . Now, if my zoom lens weren't on the fritz, I could have at least pretended I was up close. But this is the actual distance from the shoulder of the road to where we saw grazing ponies. (Paul has no equine interest; he only humored me .I said , "It's for Barb. She would like pictures of these wild ponies." ) Can you see them waaaaaaaay in the distance?


Here's what they live on. Hearty eats, huh?

















The volunteer fire department
waters them.









The signs on the fence from whence I was taking pictures clearly state, "DO NOT FEED OR PET THE PONIES."
(They want them to remain wild and not attach to humans.)

Not too deep below my surface is a rebellious kid who longed to jump the fence and approach the four-legged beauties anyway. Look at the adorable little fillies with their skinny legs and swishy tails frisking about. Everything in me wanted to break the rules in the name of touching one (or all) of these ponies. Truly in all the world I don't think there is a more majestic beast than a horse.

I do believe God agrees. After all, what will Jesus return to earth riding?

On the way out, we hiked a short distance up a steepish hill on very hot sand to a closed lighthouse.

I went because it said "Art exhibit today." The art was photography of horses and wildlife on the island. Impressive to me, not to Paul. So we saved our cash for mutually enjoyable art that we might happen upon someday soon.