Sunshine and sadness

We're continuing our creep towards winter, with the temperatures gradually falling and the incidence of damp, grey days rising. Friday was a particular offender in this respect, but we had some respite over the weekend, with yesterday (Sunday) in particular being a lovely springlike day. I had three horses to ride and these three photographs, taken through the ears of each of them in turn, give you some idea of how the morning progressed. I'm rarely in a hurry on a Sunday so I didn't get out on the first one, Dr Darcey, until around 8.00, by which time the sun was properly above the horizon and was beginning to poke through the mist as we trotted around the Severals. An hour or so later, the day had really brightened up as Frankie (Douchkirk) and I came up the Al Bahathri. And then conditions were even balmier by the time I took Karma Chameleon onto the bottom of Long Hill for a canter along the side of the Heath. As I think that this triptych of photographs indicate, it was a fairly pleasant way to start the day. The next three days, though, will tell us whether it was a worthwhile way: two of those three horses are running, with Dr Darcey heading to Folkestone tomorrow and Karma Chameleon (aka Baby Doctor, on account of him being Dr Darcey's mini-me) to Kempton on Thursday. I'd like to think that both can run well. The doctor didn't run particularly well on his hurdles debut, but it's a weaker race tomorrow, and horses often improve from their first to their second runs anyway. Let's hope that he'll be one of them. As regards the baby doctor, it's hard to know what to expect on his first run for us, but he has a good run over seven furlongs to his name from his days in Richard Guest's stable, but he seems well and a seven-furlong nursery is clearly the obvious place for us to start him off.

The pleasant conditions of yesterday were, I'm afraid, in marked contrast to the mood of a couple of recent events. You might recall that nearly a year ago tragedy knocked on our door when Chris Watson, a lovely man who rode as an amateur, suffered a fatal fall when riding out in this string. In what was a shocking reminder that freak accidents can and do occur, Chris lost his stirrup while cantering around Side Hill (either through the pin coming out of the hole or through the stirrup leather becoming detached from the saddle) and consequently lost control of a horse whom he used regularly to ride with no problems. Last Friday, the 11th day of the 11th month, saw the inquest into Chris' death, held, strangely enough, in the magnificence of the Athenaeum Club in the main square in Bury St Edmunds. The bleakness of the occasion was matched by the day's weather, but if I can say anything positive about a day which did at least bring some element of 'closure' (if there is such a thing) to an awful event, it is that the way things were handled by officialdom was exemplary. Those in charge of sorting things out - including the police and PC Nik Chapman in particular, the HSE officers Steve Gill and Martin Kneebone, and finally the coroner presiding on Friday - have all handled things throughout with dignity, sensitivity, consideration and kindness, and that really was much appreciated as it helped to make an awful saga no more awful than it had to be.

A more recent tragedy which has appeared on our radar was the death at the weekend of Corey Gilby. You might have read that Corey suffered a fatal fall at Julia Creek racecourse in northern Queensland on Saturday, galloping a horse after racing. Corey will be forever remembered by me as rider of Somewhere Safer, the mare whom Michael Tidmarsh and I own together and whom Michael, when he was living in Deagon in the northern suburbs of Brisbane, trained to win six races. Corey was in Deagon at the time, used to ride some trackwork for Michael, became particularly friendly with Michael's eldest son Liam, and rode Dolly (who recently gave birth to her first foal, a colt by All Bar One) in a few of her races, including in her final victory at the Gold Coast. Since then, Michael has moved back to New Zealand and Corey had moved farther north, but he'd remained in our thoughts. There's nothing which one can say to lessen the tragedy of the life of a good man cut short way too soon. All one can do is to remember that death will claim us all sooner rather than later. We can't defeat it by avoiding it, but we can defeat it by ensuring that whatever time we have while we are alive is well spent, and by being remembered fondly after we have gone. Chris and Corey both spent their time well, died doing what they loved, and are both remembered with great affection; and that, at least, is something.