Jeff the farrier is a young man with an attractive job. His own boss, traveling from customer to customer and working out of his truck, Jeff performs a skilled and tangible function and gets along well with the horses he shoes according to their individual needs. As a chronicler of this now uncommon craft, O'Connor is no Kathryn Lasky, as is evidenced in her clumsy opening: ""Who's that driving down the road? Melody watches as the truck pulls up beside the barn. It's Jeff the horseshoer. He's come to fit the reddish-brown horse with new shoes. Not every horse wears shoes. But those that run or walk on hard roads, trails, or racetracks need shoes to protect their feet. Melody is a pleasure horse. . . ."" But O'Connor's businesslike description of what's going on at every stage of the shoeing process is sufficient to clarify Emry's similarly functional closeup photos, which show tools, hoof, shoes, forge, and nails separately and then as part of the action: fitting, firing, removing the old shoes, preparing the hoof, and sealing, clinching, checking, and adjusting the new shoe. For craft and horse audiences, a likely out-of-the-way subject, respectably handled.