An extremely rare magical moment caught on video. Wild ponies on the beaches of the Outer Banks (OBX) in Corolla playing in winter snow. Today’s snow with the ponies is one of the Very rare moments it is ever seen in this area. Song I like with this vid: Mad World by Adam Lambert. In Memory Of The Moment:

The lightness of the snow fluttered down on pony manes that day as the two padded through the sandy beach glaze now covered in glistening flakes of snow dew, one to lead and one to follow. I stood at a distance and hardened my gaze, unsure in the reality of which I was about to perceive in the moment. Could it be that ponies such as these had pictured the day the same as I and now envisioned themselves in flights of fancy upon the frothy sands of seaside snow castle beach? The lesser of the two seemed content to walk at a slower pace behind his lead.
The winds of winter were course with salted brute against cheek and nose, matting deep into windblown hair and long eyelash. They looked as though they had trudged along the water’s edge for some time, leaving nothing behind but the distant dusty hoof-prints for proof that this moment even existed. Truly, I would not have believed it for myself if I had not witnessed it first hand in this very moment in time. Their legs stood strong with each heavy step that came crashing down with a thud over and over again as stiff aching muscles fought against the cold, mercilessly contracting the fibers of even the most pranciful athletic of ponies upon days such as these.
But there were no other days such as these. This was truly a once in a lifetime magical moment to become one with the world around them. Silence held the moment fast as frozen froth topped crests crashed to crackling icy-cold waves. The follower blew his hot breath into the air and watched as it turned to a powdered mist, waiting for response from the friend. The lead nodded and gave a slightly frigid low-grunt expression, then skipped a step in an almost unleashed prance. So unlike him it seemed. For a leader to prance about in childish bliss. He was larger than the other. You could tell his muscle’s mass effort at control. His legs were slightly thicker in the footwork of his dance but it was only a slight skip. Who would know. A light turn in almost chagrinned fashion.
The horse to follow blew hot breath back. The horse in lead knew it was meant as a laugh. Salvaging his reputation, he was brave and walked it off. Hooves crunches beneath unshod hooven askew. Winds hush and ocean’s crashing lulls continue. On down the line they go, one to lead and one to follow.
The one in lead mumbled something after a moment’s time to progress. The one in follow nodded that he knew. It was an ease of understanding in stolen moments shared as they walked along the shores that day. I could not believe my luck in being a third party participant in its commemoration.
Without grace or warning head jerks at the right. Startled, running scared at the left. Main flies. Feet thromp, thrash. Struggling to break free of sea-barred wispy ghosts unseen. Horsey intake of breath. Head jerks hard left. Shoulders press back, back, back away hard and fast. Feet clammer, almost…. Ready, teetering to a fall. No time for noise. No time for fear. Alarmed reaction. A knee-jerk response guided by the Croatian gods guarding the native shore. Embarrassment burns unseen in cheeks, unfurled. Pride does a prissy prance of ‘I’m not scared, I meant to do it that way,’ before dissolving in a turnabout in the sand. Lead checks on the safety of the fold, unfettered horse still in step with the same rhythmic trudge.
Lead fear begins to fold. All is well. Lead stands still in anticipated wait for his fold to come to follow once again. The wind blows. Its direction is unchanged as the follow horse stands hold. Moments pass in stilled silence. Long lashed blink against the only movement of the falling snow. The lead to the left holds still. Waits. The love of the follower gives. Will folds. Head lowers for a moments rest, giving in to the needs of his lead. My heart skips in breathless pause as I witness the giving of one slowly to the strong, controlled, protective, loving wait of his lead. Wait, wait… a moment more. It holds. Then steps begin to plant upon the untouched stillness of blanketed snow. Unsure hoof crunches delicate, pressing tender prints into its new palette of evidence.
Hoof prints in the snow. Who would have thought there could be magic found in such a delicate, untouched lonely place as this. My life is complete. I remember to breath. Slowly, gently, tenderly the follower proceeds. His lead stands grand at a commanding wait, ready to retake his lead. He waits. And waits some more. He does not move as the fold he watches come closer. Hold. Hold. He does not move. The fold is his to command. He comes to take his place behind, in line. I almost whisper something soft in disbelief, but there is no one there to send the words to, so I hush. I am the only one who will bear witness to this event. The command does not take up his post until his follow almost advances past. Almost. Almost taking the lead. Only then. Only then in that moment right before their powers exchange.
When he is sure his fold is safe. When he is sure he has the full extent of everything this fold has inside, all he has to offer the line…. Only then does he overtake him and begin to take his last command. The line is his. He decides the lead. Follow falls in step. No time in pause. No moments are lost. There is no pride. There is no hesitation in the air anymore today. The snowflakes fall. The sands crunch. Snow prints tell the story. And on they wander. One to lead and one to follow.



The way young minds work has been the focus of volumes of research. One of the most famous developmental scientists, Jean Piaget, changed the way we thought about human development. Some people thought that the infant mind was simply a slower version of the adult brain that had less capacity. Piaget challenged this notion by showing developmental stages. The stages noted qualitatively different types of functionality in the child, not just the ability to process things more quickly, or remember more information.

One of my favorite Piagetian tasks is “conversion.” This task highlights a child’s inability to focus on anything but the most salient feature of an observation. That is, whatever single feature appears to be the most informative to them will be the single feature to which they attend. Many of us have seen this task before, and some of us may remember thinking this way when we were children…

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Election 2012: The women running for Congress

This picture makes me proud to be a woman with a degree in science.


“Is it possible that Congress would get more done if there were more women in Congress?… I think it’s fair to say: That is almost guaranteed.” -President Obama

Obama isn’t the only one to think so.  Women currently in office and groups that advocate for female candidates have argued that more women in Congress could result in a focus on the protection of reproductive rights and contraception access, as well as more aggressive attempts to bring about pay equality, providing paid parental leave and create legislation that serves families better. Though the only way to find out for sure is to get more women into office.

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HashBrowns…October29 – November 2, 2012 No Seven Wonders

Small Potatoes

I was tempted to put this photo up all on its own today…without writing anything. It is one of those photographs that simply speaks without words. Her eyes say everything.

I am surrounded by children everyday. And whether they are my own, or some other mother’s, they all share one thing in common. Wonder.

A walk in the woods is a thousand questions.

A blank piece of paper is a possibility.

A bin of play sand is a far off land where one is sure to find buried treasure.

An empty cardboard box is potential.

Children wonder so they can learn. If they didn’t wonder, they wouldn’t ask questions. Without questions, there is no new knowledge gained.

This is something I have to remind myself as I am answering the question, for the umpteenth time, why water is wet. It’s hard not to just say…

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Pledging Profits from November Book Sales to Hurricane Sandy Relief Efforts

ReginaJeffers's Blog

In response to a challenge by my friends Abigail Reynolds and Sally Smith O’Rourke, I am donating half the profits from my November book sales from any of my Indie titles to Hurricane Sandy Relief. No matter the format (print or eBook). No matter the retailer (Amazon, CreateSpace, Barnes & Noble, Nook, Kindle, Kobo, Smashwords). Buy one of the following at your favorite online outlet and in your favorite format. I will donate half the profits to the Hurricane Sandy Relief efforts to aid those in the Northeast.

A Touch of Velvet (Book 2 of the Realm Series)

A Touch of Cashémere (Book 3 of the Realm Series)

A Touch of Grace (Book 4 of the Realm Series) 

The First Wives’ Club 

Honor and Hope: A Contemporary Romantica Based on Pride and Prejudice

Second Chances: The Courtship Wars

Darcy’s Passions: Fitzwilliam Darcy’s Story (Be certain it is the version  pictured…

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#108 A Review of In A Treacherous Court by Michelle Diener

Reflections of a Book Addict

One of the most awesome aspects of being a book blogger are all the awesome titles you’re introduced to by publishers, authors, and other readers.  I was recently sent a copy of In A Treacherous Court by Michelle Diener due to my interest in all things relating to the Tudor period.  Philippa Gregory’s The Other Boleyn Girl gets the credit for my introduction into that period of British history.  That being said, I was excited to see what Diener had in store from this fascinating time period.

Susanna Horenbout is not your normal woman in Tudor-era Europe in 1525.  She is summoned to King Henry VIII’s court to be his personal illuminator (artist who paints everyday scenes).  When she arrives from Belgium, she is met with an attempt on her life.  She narrowly escapes, and is assigned a man named John Parker to be her personal bodyguard.  He is the most…

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Political Graffiti (214): No Porn Anymore!

If you have a brain and understand why NO porn is actually a freedom and a right, and agree… feel free to say hi. Otherwise, you probably want to go meet a different kind of girl than me. 😉 Freedom for women doesn’t mean exploitation just to be loud and obnoxious and gain anyone’s attention. It includes the right to chose to act like a decent person and treat yourself with dignity and pride. 🙂 Be proud of who you are because you’ve conducted yourself in ways to be proud of!