Red Riding Hounds in Orlean

On Boxing Day, a day celebrated as a holiday in England, but increasingly being observed in the States, I drove down to Orlean, a tiny village a few miles from Marshall. I pulled into the parking lot of the Orlean Market, a small store and restaurant. Just a couple of organizers were walking about and a small fire blazed on the grass. I was surprised as I had been expecting crowds of locals and visitors, and not seeing these, I looked about, wondering if I had arrived too early. It was 9:30 and freezing cold, a brisk breeze stroking icy fingers against my cheeks. I spotted another lady, holding a camera, and walked over to chat. This was Cody Leeser, a local artist, who sells her oil paintings in Middleburg and Warrenton galleries. She was taking photos for possible future paintings. She knew a few of the hunt team and introduced me. We learned where the hounds would becoming from and made our way down the road to meet them, as large horse boxes, coughing out diesel fumes drove by and into the field. I kept my hands deep in my pockets as we walked down the road, finally choosing a spot where road signs wouldn't hamper our shots and more importantly, where a tall bank shielded us from the winds.
We could see the white Old Dominion Hunt kennels in the distance and watched as hounds raced and forth behind the gates, while a small group of horses, who weren't hunting today, pranced and twirled, caught up in the dogs' excitement. And then suddenly we saw them leave their enclosure. A red jacket atop a horse could be seen with a pack of hounds milling about him, and they made their way up the road towards us. I had learned that fox hunting here is all about the chase, they don't catch and kill the fox, as they do in England. A great article is here.
Because of this attitude towards the foxes, I have grown more interested in the sport, and let go of my animosity towards those who partake in it. So today I was excited and for the first time was letting myself enjoy this new experience.

 And here they came! I crouched down as the hounds came rolling over the crest of the hill, a big bouncing wave of deliriously happy canines. These woofers were thoroughly enjoying themselves. So well trained, they kept close to The Master, who tipped his hat and welcomed us with a, "Hello ladies, thanks for coming!" I greeted him in return but kept my head behind my camera, aware that there were vehicles behind him, and this whole busy happy scene was passing by me very quickly.
We followed them back to the field, where I was amazed to see so many horses already tacked and with riders atop them in the field. These guysdon't waste any time! As we walked in the hounds were again keeping close to The Master and grinning hugely at everybody, tongues hanging and ears flapping as they bounded about.

 I took only a few photos of the horses and riders.There was little time before they would be setting off and I was anxious not to miss anything. I grabbed a few quick shots, wishing I had more time to focus on smaller finer details, like the horses' tack or some of the beautiful shirts and tie pins I'd spotted. I didn't even manage to get a horse portrait. I was constantly aware of the dogs behind me and had to turn my focus back to them.

 Even though they were keeping to a small area on the field, they were making a huge impact. Rolling, leaping, and just bouncing about all over the place, their joy and excitement was almost tangible. I couldn't help but smile, and me being a devout cat person! But their happiness was so infectious, their friendliness turned me instantly into a hound lover as I was greeted by them all, almost all at once! Their training was evident, they jumped up, but not into my face and they didn't lick,but instead shoved wet noses into my palms or just pushed against me. They loved caresses and I was amazed to find my fear of having a dog's face close to mine completely evaporate as they bumped and ground against my legs. I bent down to get a better camera view and immediately found a wet nose pressed into my lens, it was hilarious. They loved greeting me and I loved receiving their affection. I wish I had had the time to get to know them. In just a few minutes, I was recognizing some of them and was aware how different their personalities were just from their expressions. Some looked older and wiser, some were content to just sit and observe, while others were just happy, happy, happy, jumping and prancing around and over the ones lying down. They were wonderful.

 The owner of Orlean Market shaking hands with The Master.
And then after what seemed like just 5 minutes, Cody and I were walking through the village to be ready to photograph the hunt as they passed through. We had only been standing a very short time when we saw the lead vehicle making it's way towards us with the hunt behind them.

My battery died as they were approaching so I raced to pull out a charged one from my pocket. I missed the hounds as they passed but was able to shoot the riders. Within minutes they had disappeared from our view and turned into the fields. Cody and I stood by a fence looking across the brown winter landscape. In the distance we saw a red jacket galloping over a rise, the sound of baying carrying across to us from the woodlands. A brief flash of white as a hound charged up a slope within the stark trees and then they were gone. The whole event had lasted about an hour but felt as though it had been a 20 minute whirlwind. It almost felt like it had been like a dream as we walked back to the store, where the field now stood silent, empty horseboxes lined up against the trees and the small crowd already gone. Time to grab a hot coffee from the store and move on to the next attraction...