Disgraceful Rider

Boxing Day means going to see the Badsworth & Bramham Moor hunt in Aberford. I was anti until they stopped killing foxes – so they say – but always went to see the meet.  Once a rider charged through Star’s field, jumped a fence and landed on a little brick arched bridge over a culvert. Horse went through bridge into ditch, had to be rescued by farmer etc. Some arrogant buggers ride wherever when hunting – I loved Star too much to risk her getting hurt. Still it’s a sight to see, red and black coats, shining horses and ponies of all sizes/shapes, red faced Master and Whippers In, hounds in full cry, crowds milling about, carts and carriages of all descriptions, good sprinkling of travellers, stall doing a roaring trade in bacon butties, pub likewise in foaming pints and brandy snifters, villagers and visitors milling around full of Christmas bonhomie. Then huntsmen, hounds and riders flowing out of the field, over the bridge, fastest trot imaginable southwards to begin their day.  Have I let you see it - I hope so.   Merry Christmas.