Gradient azure skies with Simpson-esque clouds. The weathered rustic wood and expansive panes of glass are sprinkled among the mountain laden valley. Gorgeously muscled and powerful animals, with their impeccably (and impressively!) dressed riders atop them, making their way around the grounds. The familiar crunch of gravel beneath our feet as we trek to the grassy hill littered with white tents.

This was the Silo Ridge Masters, held at the captivating Keane Stud farm in Amenia, NY. Horses and riders are vying for a purse of $125,000.

I had no idea that I would be in the rarefied air of the equestrian social circle of Hudson Valley elites. My invitation to this inaugural event was from a beautiful (both inside and out) friend, whom I had not seen in 8 years. She would be meeting me, with her two 'littles' in tow. She is quite a talented designer and works for the company hosting the event. You might say that I had an ‘in’ to the event.

Surrounded by the beauty of the bucolic landscape, and entranced by the performances, someone might- perhaps- believe that I was on my way to quite the satisfying experience. But this would not be a 'Sheena Felece' post if I was not talking about... you know... my true love.

Architecture.

Yes, in all its, or any, form. I love it. Truly. Madly. And deeply.

You might think that I was waxing poetic over some highly designed, formally complex structures. This is not the case at all. Well... not totally.

The stark lines of the angled roof of the weathered shingle shake roof. The muted tones of the doors and windows. The wide expanse of the windows that showcased the Valley in all of its verdant and resplendent glory. These features were common among the stables, event spaces, and the other buildings that comprise the Silo Ridge Field Club that sits adjacent to the farm.

Even with the immense visual seduction that captured me, I was enraptured by the small tents providing the demarcation line of the event. Some were made of wood, clearly paying homage to the architecture of the permanent architecture structures to which they faced.

Then, there were the others. The ones constructed of fabric. White fabric. Fabric that was stretched and pulled vertically so that the underlying structural components were visible beneath. Fabric that beautifully contrasted the horizontal plane(s) of the floors of tents. (I’ll admit, that some of the fabric might have been plastic, but just go along with it, please.)

*The tents. See them there? Just behind this sweet little girl.*

While the environs were fascinating, what got the design cogs in my brain working were the flags atop a very select number of the tents. If there were ever such a thing as architectural panache, this was it. Flags blowing with the cool October wind. Maybe it was the clear simplicity or the seeming perfection of the little feature made my heart full. Whatever it was, I was reminded of the adage that 'less is more' or in this case, 'less is better'.

After enjoying the equine|rider performances, we walked around the grounds a bit to let the kiddos tire themselves out. I didn't mind because I could sate my admiration for the place just a little longer. It seemed futile for me to question what it was about the little pennants sitting atop some of these ephemeral habitats that resonated with me so, blowing in the wind as carefree as anything, and more appealing could ever conjure up mentally.

*Even my lob-stah roll had fun. Before it went into my tummy, that is.*

As the day began to wane, and the crowd was making its way back to the parking lots, we said goodbye, with hugs, kisses and fervent promises to reconnect. Driving away from the complex, and with a final stop at a scenic overlook just a few minutes away, I couldn't resist the urge to finish the day with Ms. Simone...

(the remix version, of course)

White is the Color of My True Love's Flair