Address: 55 Whisconier Rd, Brookfield, CT 06804, USA
“About 40 years ago, a little girl rode her pony Domino on this hill. Her father had given Domino to her for Christmas when she was 14 years old. Dad had handed her a big sweater box from Read's Dept. store; it felt strangely light. She opened it up, but only found a bunch of tissue paper. Then she shook the box slightly, and a Polaroid picture of Domino appeared! The BEST Christmas present ever!!! That was in the Winter of 1974. Domino was only 12 hands high, but he was the fastest pony in Brookfield, and he could jump so high, carrying her sailing over a row of oil drums standing on end. One of her most favorite things to do was ride her bike after school, from her home next to the Peter Piper nursery school, down Route 25 to the barn that was just past West Whisconier Road; she did this almost every single day, winter, spring, summer and fall, just to be with Domino. The thing she remembers most is the days of summer, back when kids got three straight months off from school, and everything was green, green, green, everywhere, the trees and the grass were so green and lulled her into a sense of security and complacency like no other place ever has in her life. And the sky, so deeply blue, that seemed to stretch up into the Universe forever. Domino loved to tease her and run away when she would try to catch him. She would put a bridle on and a barback pad, it was so much more comfortable than a saddle, she had strong legs and could hold onto Domino better while they went flying across a meadow or jumping across a log. She liked the feel of his muscles gathering for the leap when they approached a fence to jump over. She would ride him around the big blueberry patch across the street from the barn; the blueberries were as big as quarters and so sweet; Domino was small enough so that she could ride him through the bushes in the patch, picking berries and stuffing them in her mouth, and not be seen by the owner. He confronted her one day with a smile, handing her a plastic bucket, telling her that she could pick and eat as much as she wanted for fifty cents. What a deal! In the winter, she would ride Domino all the way down the street that was right across from the barn, down to the end, where they would jump over a small stream, cross the railroad tracks, and jump over a big log that had fallen across the trail many years ago. One time, in the fall, Domino was spooked in mid-jump when a leaf blew across the trail on the other side; he twisted in mid-air and she went flying through the air and landed on her back. She lay there for a moment, her head spinning. When she looked to her left, she saw Domino waiting for her, eating big mouthfuls of the tall green grass. While she was flying through the air, she had worried that Domino would run home and leave her there, but he didn't. Good boy! At the end of the trail, they would find themselves in a field with birch trees; she thought it used to be a riding ring because of the worn path around the perimeter of the field. In the winter, she loved to come here alone with Domino; they would walk silently around the ring as the snow fell, and it was so quiet, she could hear the sound of the snow falling on the ground: chh, chh, chh. She is a grown woman now, writing this from an office on the 11th floor of a skyscraper in downtown Los Angeles, where she works for the City of Los Angeles Dept. of Building and Safety. Every now and again, she comes here on her break, to see how her childhood home looks, and relive the days she spent riding through the hills and forests of Connecticut with her beloved pony Domino.”
Address: 183 Whisconier Rd, Brookfield, CT 06804, USA
“Great local park with hiking trails and tennis courts.”
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