Its funny sometimes, when you look back at your life, how there seems to be a confluence of events that just catches you up and carries you along in its wake, often without you even realizing it. That’s how I feel when I look back at those years in Western Mass. What a series of interesting coincidences occurred, time after time. If I were more of a WooWoo, I would call it Fate, or Kismet, or Serendipity, or God's Will. And maybe it was all those things. Regardless, events transpired in such a way as to set me on a path of discovery that I am still on. And for that I am grateful.
I wrote that I had met a family that knew Sally Swift. They were horse people, the best kind. They had a neighbor. This neighbor also had horses. They too were horse people, but the worst kind. They had a pony, a pretty grey Welsh mare,that their kids rode. She offended them in some way one day, so they put her on the hot walker. And left her. To go to a horse show. For the weekend. In August ‘To think about things’.