We went for around walk in Woodstock at sunset, but it was the moonrise that caught our attention:
We'd taken a road past Billings' Farm Museum, thinking we'd end up not far from the other side of town and our inn. Luckily, we asked a passing jogger about that, and he told us we were headed to Taftsville instead. We turned around, and took more photos of the rising moon.
On Sunday, we visited the Kedron Valley Inn Stable in South Woodstock. I learned to ride here back in my 20s, and hadn't been back since my 30s. I learned to canter and jump in nearby fields, and I took many trail rides and lessons in all kinds of weather, even snow. I spent many happy, nervous hours here. I was never a confident rider; I was frequently told by teachers that I looked much more skilled than I actually was. This wasn't deliberate. I knew you can never fool a horse, and you can only fool a good teacher for so long. I wasn't trying to fool anyone: I just sat up straight and my arms, legs, and head fell into their correct positions by themselves. My nerve never caught up with my good posture despite years of lessons, there and in Ipswich. I knew my teacher had moved on, but I now learned that the owners had died, their son had inherited the place, and he no longer kept many horses or offered trail rides (liability issues). Nowadays he and his crew just give lessons and board horses for locals.
I found out where my teacher is now, her married name, and that she's still teaching, although she specializes in carriage and sleigh driving now. The next time we're in Vermont, I plan to look her up and maybe try a driving lesson.