October 16, 2008 Like all little girls growing up in a rural environment, I loved horses and one of my favorite books was Misty of Chincoteague. I never got that pony I dreamed of having as a kid but I always imagined I could just go to Assateague Island and pick one up. I was anxious to see, crossing over into Virginia, if they were still there. Like Maryland, Virginia goes from Blue Ridge mountains to coastal plains and the extreme ends of the state are about as removed from the DC suburbs as you can get. As soon as I got onto the island and pulled off the side of the road, I was rewarded with a view of a distant herd of ponies. In the children's book you imagine they are just wandering all over the beaches. In real life, they keep their distance and are in the salt ponds and meadows peeking out behind groves of trees. Since they would not pose for me, I shot some photos and chose to paint a beautiful salt marsh where they had been moments before. Far more eager to make me aware of their presence were the black flies. Sprinkling my arms with turpentine did not help but thankfully a couple of cyclists stopped to watch me paint. I begged a few sprays of repellant from them and was able to stop swatting long enough to finish an 8 x 10. By mid afternoon I was on the road again back to Pennsylvania and a quick visit with my parents.
