wordsfromanneli

Thoughts, ideas, photos, and stories.


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Summer Games – Dressage

 

Last time we had firewood delivered, I found a badge at the bottom of the pile of wood.

Forty-one years ago, someone was a volunteer at the Summer Games held in Comox on Vancouver Island.

Somehow the badge they wore became a part of my collection of curiosities. I don’t know who wore this badge, but perhaps I brushed by that person as I climbed up into the stadium to watch the dressage competition.

I had just moved back to the island after being away for several years working in other parts of the province, and when I heard that the Summer Games were on, I went there to have a look.

The riding competitions caught my attention and I was impressed by how royal the riders looked. I even wondered if by some remote chance a young Prince Charles had entered our humble competition. He looked fine in his riding jacket and helmet.

The horse was brushed until he gleamed and his mane was braided. I was enthralled by the spectacle of this rider guiding his horse over barricades and around the ring to jump the various hurdles. The whole show made the Comox Valley feel like Buckingham Palace.

Riders work with their horses for years to train them and form a bond that leads to easy co-operation in the show. Discipline takes on new meaning in dressage.  I don’t know much about the rules of dressage competitions, but I know that the event was a real pleasure to watch.

Here are some photos from the Internet that relate to what I saw locally on a smaller scale.

 

 

I would go to another event like this in a heartbeat if it were held here again. Meanwhile, I will always wonder who lost this badge and where it has been for the last 41 years.

 


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Competition

Jasper and Caspar are two of Lincoln’s babies. They bumble and bounce around the woodshed and the trees, quite naively, unaware that danger lurks everywhere.

But today, Jasper cares only about eating.

“It’s a chilly day for June,” he says. “I have to eat something to warm up. I’ll try this bit of bark .”

“Oops! Oh darn. It fell between the logs. It wasn’t that tasty anyway. I need to find a cone.”

“Maybe there’s one tucked inside this stump.”

“Ho-Hohhhh!” says Caspar. “What are you up to, Jasper? Anything I can help you find?”

“Nothing! Nothing at all.” Jasper tries to sound convincing. “Why don’t you just go find your own cones, Caspar? This is MY stump.”

 

“Whew! Got rid of him. But now, to find a new cone. Let’s see…. Where can I find a cone? There must be some buried around here. I’m thinking, I’m thinking….”

“I’ll try digging here. Looks like a lot of digging has been going on.”

“Ahh … yes! My reward for all my hard work. Now I’d better find a safe place to eat it.”

Jasper and Caspar have once shared a nest

Now they just fight about who is the best.

Who can find hazelnuts, filberts, and cones?

Who fills his stomach then lies down and groans?

 

One finds a treasure, the other sneaks in,

Stuffs up his face from his cheeks to his chin,

Runs to a stump where he gobbles his loot,

Before brother jumps up to give him the boot.

 

Backflips and scampers around and around,

Climbing up fir trees till he can’t be found,

“I’ll get you for that,” Jasper chatters out loud.

“So catch me,” sneers Caspar. He’s feeling quite proud.

 

“What about sharing?” our Jasper exclaims.

Quivering mad, he is tired of these games.

“Dig,” Caspar says, “there are more cones to find,

It’s called competition, and that, I don’t mind.”