Quiet and Free

Since the late 1800's my family has lived at the base of the mountains in a quiet little valley along the river.  Five generations later, things(life) is very different, but everyday we fight to keep the old ways alive.  The ranch was split between my grandpa and my great uncle, but both of our families are still running cows in the same country as our great-great grandpa James and will continue to do so until our rights are taken away.  

Tonight my mama and I drove to the top of the mountain in search of my papa(who was already home).  I love my mountain home, love where I come from, and I feel an unexplained peace when I'm up there.  It's so easy to picture myself 100 years ago living in the line shack on top of the ridge with just my horse, my dog, my gun and cows to look after.  No loud vehicles humming by, no motorcycles scaring my colts, no one who doesn't belong.  Just the sound of the wind in the pines, the birds and chipmunks, bawling cows, the clear ring of their bells.  I'm in love with the simplicity of the past, and wish that I could have experienced it as tough a life as it was.  A time where the women were tough and the men were tougher.  You lived or you died, simple as dirt...

As the sun slipped behind the mountains in the distance I couldn't help but think about the family that came before.  About how many such sunsets they experienced in the same place(there were no roads back then). What was happening in their lives?  Were they happy?  Did they miss the old country?  What had they gone through to get to that point?  Did they simply marvel in the beauty of the orange light, or were they too rushed to make it back to camp to notice? 

Even a family who seems to know everything about their ancestors it's these minute details that are forever lost in history.  It's a shame that the simple things in life are not the ones that are handed down through generations.  I'm fiercely proud of my family and since I didn't get a chance to know them all, I'm extremely thankful to be experiencing much of the same things in life as they did.

XO Loves,

Me

 

Hoof-falls, Crickets and Jingle-bells

I don't know if you've noticed a trend, but I Love the night!  I'm absolutely terrified of Mountain Lions, but other than the things that go bump in the night I love it.  There's something especially magical about summer nights.  The heat of the day is gone, most people are at home, the world is quiet and somehow softer.

Lately my big sorrel mare has been somewhat crazy.  But tonight I put an English saddle on her and she became a totally different horse.  Jax and I headed out into the fading light.  Head down on a loose rein we trotted off to my parents.  Unlike most of our rides I didn't have to fight her to keep her at a trot.  I had a nice little visit in the yard with my papa before heading back home.

 There was no moon tonight and all I could see was the pale path of the road and the silhouette of my horse.  As the tree canopy closed over us, we became totally engulfed in the darkness.  At that point I had total trust in my horse.  When the road opened up, I let my mare lope.  It was amazing.  I haven't ridden in the dark in a long time.  Loping down the road, without having the advantage of sight is a totally liberating experience.  For those few seconds I was completely free. 

It was just me and my horse.  The sound of my mares hoof-falls, crickets and jingle-bells.  And whatever creatures that happened to be lurking in the night.

Xoxo Loves,


Me