This place is many things: a home, a small expanse of hay fields, a retreat from the hustle and bustle of modern life. Above all, it is a horsey little place. The horses were here first.

To people migrating out from the city they were all a shade of brown, difficult to tell apart. But one learns, and horses grow on a person. And when we went to the livestock auction we ended up bringing home more of them, unable to resist, especially when the person known to all as the “meat man” raised his hand to bid on a horse sold by the pound.

It was clear from the beginning that this farm was meant to be “shared” in some form with other people, and with more animals. Stray cats arrived and became barn cats, a rescue dog was added, and a number of intrepid individuals took on the rather daunting task of converting part of the hay fields into gardens to grow food for their families or community.

There were events, too, to share a vision of living lightly on the land and with oversized pets that have a special way of bringing calm to troubled minds.

It is a little quieter now. Many of the horses have moved on, and most of the microfarmers have transferred to a second farm property more suited for growing.

The last remaining senior horses are living their retirement being groomed and enjoying human company and many carrot and apple treats on a daily basis. The ones that have died or moved away continue to live here in spirit, and in our hearts. For some of their stories, see horse tales.