Horse Barn Hill

We'd wandered up to UConn on a blustery, bright Saturday afternoon and the first stop, as usual, was Horse Barn Hill. 

I've always been taken by the name and the feel of the place. It was and still is a little like home 

Even now, walking up the hill and around the barns, I can remember a lonely Sunday morning or two when I was homesick or wondering what my life would one day be, back when I was 20. 

I'd walk along that hill, stop to see the cows and sheep and pigs and the horses, wander past the stone wall and the familiar trees and soon 
enough those feelings would un-jangle.  

Always, there was something lovely there, like this horse the other day, our official greeter. She followed us along the fence and reached out to say hello.