The Grounds Tour.

[Matabon]

As you walk up the gravel driveway to Godolphin Stables you can't help but stop to smell the cherry tree blossoms which lined the drive. You look to your left and a huge pasture sprawls across the land, in which mares and foals grazed peacefully, their manes and tails blowing in the slight breeze. To your right another huge pasture lies, the wood fence hot wired but not overdone. This one contained a massive black stallion, his forelock covering most of his face; sleek summer coat glimmering in the sun. He looked dapper, his tail cut straight at the cornet bands, swishing at the odd fly, and his mane also cut vertically and done in small braids. You accidentally kick a pebble, which startles the stallion they called Remington, and he took off galloping across the pasture, powerful limbs sweeping him quickly to the other end as he tossed his head, giving out a loud snort, before laying down and rolling in the lush green grass. He was just one of the many examples of Godolphin fine breeding. He gets to his feet and looks at you from across the field. Four generations of the finest bloodlines in SIM look at you. His son is soon to be born, and he will grow up and stand in that pasture and look at your children as they visit Godolphin, the cherry tree blossoms still blowing across the gravel driveway in the summer breeze.
Once at the top of the driveway, you see a large stable, with twenty five stalls for the top horses. You slip threw the black iron gate, and hope no one is around as you walk down the first isle way, which was the mare isle. Gold glimmering nameplates were on the doors. A brand new one read Belladona, and the stall beside it read SSR Calixte. Down the isle the nameplates were more scratched and worn. They read GS What Luck, Miss Matinee, and San D' Aigo Secrets. You admired the horses, but the barn was empty, and you decide to meander down the second isle. This was the stallions. You recognize names such as Geronimo and Versace, the Legends. Then you saw the black. The one who had been out in the pasture when you went by. GS Remington, the newly named Champion of MHS. The newest nameplates were of GS Shakespeare and Tsornin, and the name Tsornin rang a bell. Yes, he was that pairing of the Dawn Treader Winner and Legend Geronimo, and the Twilight Stakes Winner Miss Matinee. You close your eyes and think of all the remarkable SIM lines in this colt's pedigree, dating back years. However, you know that this colt has more than a pedigree, he has talent. You saw him race at both his Maiden and the Breeder's Cup, how could you not with the publicity they did on the events. Yes, he had a lot to live up to, but you would remember to follow his career, cheer for him and the pressure he was to face.
Admiring the photos you decide the Main Barn was a site to see, with individual tack trucks in front of every stall, in the black and purple colors of Godolphin Stables, and hooks each holding a gleaming halter, bronze name plates on the sides.

Heading outside, there was a deluxe foaling barn, with cameras and a lounge with leather sofas, a fridge, and big screen TV, along with an entire wall with smaller Tv's, each with a screen showing a mare stall. Leaving this barn, you think of how many foals had been foaled in those stalls. What had Versace looked like as he shakily stood beside his dam, Midnight Belle? Which stall had contained Miss Matinee, Smiles Boo, and now Tsornin?
Head still spinning you head over to the isolated barn, which had six stalls, and one included a completely padded stall. This was Xenophon's. He had come to Godolphin from the renowned Fail Scene Stables to retire, and you silently hoped to catch a glimpse of him, the black sire of Geronimo and grandsire of Tsornin. Godolphin was a place of heritage, of memories and tradition, and the atmosphere of warmth and caring, that pride that each Godolphin horse possessed radiated off the wood barns, the cobblestone floors.
There was an indoor riding ring, hog fuel covered the ground, with wonderful footing, and the walls were white, the roof having bright lights and heaters, along with another cozy lounge for viewing when it was cold.
There was also a large building, which contained the treadmills, swim pools, and wash racks and drying room. You finish off your tour as you pass by the sawdust and feed sheds, and the tack rooms, and finally, coming out back you gasp at the twenty five acre pastures, including five huge pastures. All the horses were out, enjoying the sunshine, some drinking from the automatic waterers, and others snoozing under the cool shade of the individual tree in each pasture. Godolphin had huge trees. Oaks, maples, willows. Each guarding the pasture in which their occupant lived like colossal mountains. You turn around, sapping up the glorious landscape of mountains surrounding the huge estate, as you pass the large and fancy, but not over built, house and guest cottage, along with a separate less fancy house, done in brick, with peaks and sunroofs, for the grooms and stable hands.

A light summer shower started to sprinkle, and before you knew it you were being run over by the grooms coming out of the house. There was five, and each dashed down the pastures, and bringing the horses in. They were fast, and only twenty minutes later, all the horses were indoors and hardly wet, all the horses were clipped as you saw up close, hooves trimmed, shots up to date, and manes cut and combed, while tails were up in vet wrap, neatly done. You decided to skedaddle before you were seen, and you thought you would never forget this place of heritage, a hidden beauty in the valley of British Columbia, Canada.

note: this actually was written a awhile ago and although it has been edited as time passes, it really needs to be rewritten.