September 1st. That's today, and generally not a good day. September 1st, of course, is far from winter, but that's not quite the point: September 1st, in my mind at any rate, means that summer has gone. And that's sad, not only because summer is the most pleasant season in which to live, but also because it means that we are heading towards the least pleasant, and are in the season of ever-shortening days and, overall, deteriorating conditions. Even in winter one can't say the same. And - and here I'm being unnecessarily bearish - it
marks another milestone on the way to the grave: we're only allotted a certain number of summers each, and that's another one ticked off for us all. But, of course, that's all nonsense. Each day takes us one day nearer the grave; no more, no less. And each day is for enjoying. And no day is a particular milestone, because set boundaries to the seasons exist only in our heads. Take the past week, for example. The Newmarket Town Plate, run on 27th August, was surely run in summer.
And the conditions were indeed lovely, as the photographs of the race and sun-drenched post-race presentations attest - but a couple of hours later heavy rain battered the track. And the previous evening, when Emma and I had walked the course with our posse of three hounds, conditions were very gloomy indeed. Splendid views past the National Stud right across the Dyke to the Rowley Mile grandstand, for sure, but the splendour came as much from the heaviness of the sky as from anything else. And once we were in the home straight, the sky was bearing
down even more ominously. It was a similar situation at Yarmouth on Sunday, when the afternoon was largely bright and sunny - except that a storm blew in from the sea just before Batgirl's race, meaning that the enclosures copped a dowsing while she and William Buick walked around alongside the Godolphin contender at the start in gloomy conditions seven furlongs farther north. An hour later, though, it was another world altogether as Minsky Mine led home Bouggatti and Spyder in glorious conditions. Four seasons in one day indeed.
For all that August and summer have ended in a rather up and down way meteorologically, September and autumn have, so far, begun splendidly. Today was one of those really splendid mornings which have me riding up the Heath getting my camera out of my pocket every couple of minutes. Today I was on Kadouchski first lot, which was great as his ears make a great pair through which to film. He's come out of the Town Plate in magnificent shape, which is great as it can be a very attritional race. This shouldn't, of course,
be a surprise as he found the rain-softened ground (which I'd have called perfect by National Hunt standards, and just on the soft side of good by Flat race reckoning) absolutely tailor-made for his comfort, and he had a very easy race. Even so, I erred on the side of caution in giving him four days off after the race, and he duly came out on the Heath raring to go today. But, as befits a great horse, still gentlemanly-mannered. So that lot was a real treat. As were the subsequent ones. Of course, we can't
bank on having such divine conditions indefinitely, but we'll rejoice in them while we can. And while we rejoice, we can enjoy the accompanying brahmas. What's to report? Well, most of the brahmas have been canine ones, as per usual, which are probably of interest to me and no one else. They love this lovely weather just as much as I do, and I think they enjoy lairising in the morning sunshine just as much as I enjoy watching them do so. Other than that, there are a few noteworthy achievements
which deserve to be highlighted, but I think that I might have to leave that for the next chapter as I'm very tired just now and could do with making this brief (ie only about four times longer than it should have been, no more). I'll just settle for hoping for another fine day tomorrow (not just here but in Yorkshire) to ensure that we have good ground for Thirsk on Saturday, where Ethics Girl is due to try for another Hambledon Cup victory - with Hannah set to have her first ride north of the border the same day, having been booked for an outside ride for Linda Perrett at Musselburgh. Let's hope that it's another good Saturday.
September 1st. That's today, and generally not a good day. September 1st, of course, is far from winter, but that's not quite the point: September 1st, in my mind at any rate, means that summer has gone. And that's sad, not only because summer is the most pleasant season in which to live, but also because it means that we are heading towards the least pleasant, and are in the season of ever-shortening days and, overall, deteriorating conditions. Even in winter one can't say the same. And - and here I'm being unnecessarily bearish - it
marks another milestone on the way to the grave: we're only allotted a certain number of summers each, and that's another one ticked off for us all. But, of course, that's all nonsense. Each day takes us one day nearer the grave; no more, no less. And each day is for enjoying. And no day is a particular milestone, because set boundaries to the seasons exist only in our heads. Take the past week, for example. The Newmarket Town Plate, run on 27th August, was surely run in summer.
And the conditions were indeed lovely, as the photographs of the race and sun-drenched post-race presentations attest - but a couple of hours later heavy rain battered the track. And the previous evening, when Emma and I had walked the course with our posse of three hounds, conditions were very gloomy indeed. Splendid views past the National Stud right across the Dyke to the Rowley Mile grandstand, for sure, but the splendour came as much from the heaviness of the sky as from anything else. And once we were in the home straight, the sky was bearing
down even more ominously. It was a similar situation at Yarmouth on Sunday, when the afternoon was largely bright and sunny - except that a storm blew in from the sea just before Batgirl's race, meaning that the enclosures copped a dowsing while she and William Buick walked around alongside the Godolphin contender at the start in gloomy conditions seven furlongs farther north. An hour later, though, it was another world altogether as Minsky Mine led home Bouggatti and Spyder in glorious conditions. Four seasons in one day indeed.
For all that August and summer have ended in a rather up and down way meteorologically, September and autumn have, so far, begun splendidly. Today was one of those really splendid mornings which have me riding up the Heath getting my camera out of my pocket every couple of minutes. Today I was on Kadouchski first lot, which was great as his ears make a great pair through which to film. He's come out of the Town Plate in magnificent shape, which is great as it can be a very attritional race. This shouldn't, of course, 
be a surprise as he found the rain-softened ground (which I'd have called perfect by National Hunt standards, and just on the soft side of good by Flat race reckoning) absolutely tailor-made for his comfort, and he had a very easy race. Even so, I erred on the side of caution in giving him four days off after the race, and he duly came out on the Heath raring to go today. But, as befits a great horse, still gentlemanly-mannered. So that lot was a real treat. As were the subsequent ones. Of course, we can't 
bank on having such divine conditions indefinitely, but we'll rejoice in them while we can. And while we rejoice, we can enjoy the accompanying brahmas. What's to report? Well, most of the brahmas have been canine ones, as per usual, which are probably of interest to me and no one else. They love this lovely weather just as much as I do, and I think they enjoy lairising in the morning sunshine just as much as I enjoy watching them do so. Other than that, there are a few noteworthy achievements 
which deserve to be highlighted, but I think that I might have to leave that for the next chapter as I'm very tired just now and could do with making this brief (ie only about four times longer than it should have been, no more). I'll just settle for hoping for another fine day tomorrow (not just here but in Yorkshire) to ensure that we have good ground for Thirsk on Saturday, where Ethics Girl is due to try for another Hambledon Cup victory - with Hannah set to have her first ride north of the border the same day, having been booked for an outside ride for Linda Perrett at Musselburgh. Let's hope that it's another good Saturday.
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