descriptions amidst the fog

I was reading the blog of a friend of a friend today and was blown away by his account of the goings on in his life. He used images, I mean words, in a way that made me feel like I was there.  I could see the way he looked up at the sky and searched for the familiar shapes that make out the constilations with out the pollution of city lights.

I am reminded of the beauty of visiting my grandmother, aunt and uncle on their ranch in the summers. It was a place to get away from the chaos that was my home life and live the life of a rancher.  We used to stand along the fense and wait for K.C., my uncles quarter horse to come along.  She was a beautiful horse! The rusty red of her coat with the white star on her head between her eyes.  Wild and free, never having been broken, she used to come to the fence and let us rub her and feed her sugar cubes and carrots.  It used to be my dream to be the one to ride her first. She used to run along the fence in a race with my brother and I when we came to visit.  It felt almost like she missed us while we were gone.

One of my favorite things to do at the ranch was to go for long walks in the pasture with my Aunt.  She would teach us about the different types of plants that grew and she showed us how to dye wool with the indian paintbrushes that were wildly rampant.  She used to have chickens and she taught me how to get the ges with out the hens going insane. You sneak your hand in ever so gently and scoop out the egg.

I was given a love of the land on that ranch. The wind would blow and howl right along with the cyotes in a song of happy loneliness and maybe even contentment. The way the sun would glitter in its wonderful brilliant shades to wake me up way before I ever wanted to get up.  
My grandmother taught me how to crochet and do needle point in the evenings when I wasn't being a crazy little kid enjoying the lack of alcoholic parents. She sheilded us from the rages of fights that often occured at home by allowing us to stay with her at my Aunt and Uncles ranch.

I can still picture the tumble weeds dancing in their own way down the road to meet the mail person. and making "christmas trees" out of them. 

The ranch has long gone passed hands from my uncle into who else knows. But its stuck in my heart and in my memories . Its there and when I think about it I feel a calm and smell the dusty earth and the many tulips and iris flowers that were planted in the garden. The taste of the sweet and juicy strawberries fill my mouth and make it water.