Tag Archives: dreams

modern-day cowgirl.

10 Jul

 

When I was a little girl, I liked to pretend that I was a cowgirl.

I would spend hours getting lost in daydreams of wrangling cattle and of strapping on my chaps and spurs and riding off into the sunset on my lively steed.

I so badly wanted to live the life of adventure that was so often the main vein running through the stories that recounted the days of the wild west.

Stories of heroic cowpoke protagonists, of miners living high atop the Rocky Mountains, of straight shooters and showdowns.

And though I don’t partake in any high noon showdowns or spend much time around horses,  I like to think that I am living out my childhood dreams of cowgirl adventures via elk jerky and apple picnics at the top of high mountain summits. Through wandering drives up old access roads in search of snow in July. Through the twangy stories told during a private blue grass show on a deck overlooking Telluride and the San Juans. Through evenings spent on a wobbly, spider-ridden kayak watching fireworks cascade over Lake Dillon. Through hidden campsites that provide an unobstructed view of the stars and the sun rising up above Cataract Falls. Through the eyes of an eight year old as she learns the ins and outs of the world around her. And through the joy felt when close friends and family come together for an evening of ongoing laughter over charred ribs and corn on the cob dripping with melted butter.

 

 

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30 years.

22 Mar

Happy anniversary to my mom and dad on their 30th wedding anniversary!

I love you!

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the things of dreams.

11 Jun

I bonded with a horse named Arrow today. Arrow is a handsome Chestnut with a bright white blaze, soulful brown eyes, and four white socks that give him the appearance of a tap-dancer when he impatiently prances in place.

Arrow and I spent a few hours meandering the trails of the rugged Williams Fork Valley; and when I closed my eyes I was 10 years old again, joyfully spending long, Colorado summer days at Many Ponies. At 10 I dreamt of becoming a cowgirl, a wrangler, a rough and tough girl of the Wild West. Pecos, Shadow, Ricochet, and Patches were my faithful steeds, and my compatriots consisted of Mimi and Papa and Paul and Lisa. I was going to runaway to Telluride after the summer ended, and help Paul and Lisa move Many Ponies, and their many ponies, to Norwood Ranch for the winter. I was going to sleep under the stars among the herd and learn to lasso a wild mustang. The sweet, earthy scent of the sagebrush, the twinkle of the Aspens quaking in the wind, the hot sun beating down on my skin—these were the things of dreams.

Dreams that 16 years later, haven’t left me. The only thing that has changed is that I finally let those dreams pull me out to the Wild West. And living out here, among the majestic snow-capped peaks, the jewel-tone of the late afternoon sun, and ink black nights smattered with endless stars, makes it just a little bit easier to let that cowgirl out to ride away into the sunset on her faithful steed.

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