Wild Ponies

Isn't it amazing what can arise from a simple trip to the shop to get bread and milk. Especially in place as special as this. The village of Nether Stowey sits in the foothills of the Quantocks, an area of Outstanding Natural Beauty in the South West of England.

I'm staying here for a couple of months whilst we spend time visiting family and friends. My Uncle has lived on a farm here for as long as I can remember and when I was a child, my Grandma and Grandad lived in the cottage next door. I always used to love staying with my Grandma and Grandad, not just because they were so special to me at such a difficult period of my life, but also because of their quirky little home with the wibbly wobbly floors and walls, the massive wood burner that used to fill the whole house with warmth and comfort and the mature laden fruit tress in the garden. But what was most special was that at night I would wake to the sound of the wild ponies cantering down past the cottage from the hills into the village to feast on the cricket green grass. It was like a magical fairy tale. I would quickly run to the tiny window and watch them by the moonlight. I'll never forget that. The wild ponies are still on the Quantocks but I think their numbers are diminishing and the cattle grids now keep them more contained.

So with this in my kind, after buying our freshly baked bread, milk, faggots, apples and cream for our apple pie desert I decided to take a quick detour via 'dead womans ditch' to see if Maggie and I could spot wild ponies up on the hills.

I could not believe our luck because all of a sudden there in the middle of the road in front of us, slowly crossing the road was a family of wild ponies, including two very young foals. We watched them cross in peace and then followed them through the bushes.

It was a really wintery day today, very windy and rainy so it felt extra special, seeing them in their wooly coats, with long tangly manes and wild eyes.

It's experiences like this that I hope stick in Maggie's mind, feed her imagination and make magical dreams.

Speaking of feeding imaginations and making magical dreams, you may be interested to know that the village of Nether Stowey, where we go to our local shop, is famed for being where Samuel Coleridge lived for three years and wrote The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, Frost at Midnight and Kubla Khan.