Sun Soaking

Lately when the sun shines I have been letting myself go. I literally bathe in him for the fog can be so dense here and there are periods of rain where he doesn't extend his rays for days.

I may have been seen on the fallen eucalyptus tree, in the front pasture, breathing him in like a substance I abuse and take for granted until I am forced to go without. The first day I actually lived at my new home I rejoiced in the discovery of this mammoth artifact of the once thriving and proud standing witness of the land. Now he is a part of nature's playground given to me. I climb to his highest reaches, the locations on his tree body where he was once the broadest. I stand and allow my eyes to conquer an expanse of mountains, neighboring homes and horses, and empty grassy spaces. I tower over my horse compadres and their grazing in the field below. I call to them "LOOK AT ME!," like a child would, when seeking validation from a parent when accomplishing what seems to her an exciting and risky feat. They acknowledge me out of the corner of their grass focused eyes.

Sometimes the trunk can act as my sunning bed where I warm myself horizontally on its peeling surface. I am good at finding seats in trees and comfortable positions where the tree fits me in like fingers pointed upward towards the sky with me in the palm of nature's hand. First, with my squinting eyes, I scan my eucalyptus, one of the world's great casualities. I search for a flat spot to lay my bundled body in sunlight so to warm my seeking soul. Yes, it can be bone chilling damp here.

Today is another story. Today I can not pry myself from the sunlite room that houses the happy trio of woman, black cat, and gray cat.

I remember the last place I resided. It backed up to dense forest. The only window faced extending limbs, and moss skin. There was a few days I did not leave the dim retreat and unless I walked outside into the field my body wouldn't have felt but ten minutes of the sun's essence. The black cat, Noir, and I would scramble to grasp onto the light, only to watch it wriggle out from under our weak holds. But I did not complain. I did wallow for a while in the darkness for I was going through withdraw from my last relationship and the shadowy company I kept.

So today I can rationalize stripping down to allow the sun to cloak my body. Sometimes you must strip away to create surface area.

You must empty out to make room for what is to come.

And cleanse

and rinse

and clear
and bathe in a bath of sunlight.

Sonoma's "night life"

So one of the drawbacks of this not-so-crazy, many-horse-town is...at night, after dinner hours you can hear a pin drop from town from where I live, 8 miles away. There is a sports bar, an Irish Pub with live bluegrass, and the "Blue Moon."

The first time I moved to Sonoma (yes I moved there twice in 2008) I worked and lived at the Trojan Horse Inn. Abby, from my Culinary class, spotted the "Blue Moon" across the street from the inn and told me she saw the dive in Bon Appetite, and were known for amazing desserts. I honestly could say I only knew that motorcycles populated the building's exterior and often.

One night I am in the mood for something sweet and I cross the street. After struggling to find the front door which is actually a back door, and weaving my way through the crowd (not my sort of crowd) rocking out and thrashing out to the live band, I stumble, but not from over consumption of beverage, into the bar area. I squeeze my normal looking self in between the leather clad. Sticking out like a well-manicured-thumb the bartender quickly makes his way over to me. I shout over the wailing music that I am curious about their talked about homemade desserts. Of course "to-go" would have been my next response, but instead I am quickly cut off and told the facts. They only serve hot dogs and last call for wieners is at 9.

I think Abby must have read about the "Harvest Moon" which is now my favorite restaurant in Sonoma, and yes the homemade desserts are seasonal and delicious.

The first night on the farm was when I became accustomed to a whole other type of "night life." A woke up three times that night to the mini donkeys in the field speaking their minds to the otherwise still darkness lite by thousands of stars. Every night,there after, I slept pretty soundly, especially after my two cats moved in. The one always provides extra warmth to my already cozy bedtime existence. The occasional soft calling dove-like sound of the screech owl adds to the chorus of crickets and frogs that give their harmonizing all, nightly. While the mini-fridge's constant hum and the heaters occasional up-chucking definitely do detract. When all is quiet, the ceiling comes alive. Unfortunately a colony of mice do rent the space above my barn pad. I wonder if a couldn't talk some barn owls into permanently evicting these less desired tenants, but I think they are unreachable, tucked between the ceiling and the roof. Luckily for me I do have two cats that are always game for a round of mouse pin ball. These mice too have become a fabric in the backdrop canvas of sound that serenades my dreams.

After getting used to "Macho Burro" reemphasizing again and again his maleness to all of Sonoma day-in and day-out. It was eerie when one night his honks where replaced by a truer call of the wild. Through the night a band of coyotes' sang their praise to mother earth, silencing the burros. The last thing these "burritos" desire is becoming a midnight snack. It was a noisier night than usual with the coyote chatter and the barks of all the sleep deprived, local dogs. I woke up numerous times to promptly tune-in to the coyotes' calls. On the currents of their voices' sound waves, I traveled purposefully back to a dream world available solely for my subconscious. Each time I reawoke I would listen with a sense of wonder at their mystery. Though in and out of consciousness my soul remained attentive the whole night through.

The new love of my life

He, like most I have grown to love, comes with baggage. Though there was not much "growth" needed to love him. It was love at first sight. Yes the piece of me that "fell" immediately was the horse-crazed, wonder eyed twelve year old girl, that still nourishes my soul. I wouldn't say she was a dormant part of my soul, but instead would say she was only slightly buried. She snuck a breath from below during any movie that captures horses running. Her tears are the tears that would streak down a once dry face to be quickly wiped by a hand that desires to conceal such pangs of the heart.





Maybe it was the impish, playful, enthusiastic girl that steered my craigslist search to the agriculture and farm page that strange November day. I had just gotten off the phone with my friend Jen. We had been searching for a place together. She was more desperate than myself to move for she was renting a room from a woman whom had a split personality. Along beside one half of her mind was a man, named Pablo, who "was not her boyfriend." He slept on the floor in the middle of Jen's living room, beside cans of paint that were all over the house and in closets she had labeled "not for Jen's use." Just a week prior Jen had stumbled out of her bedroom in the morning to find the fear-crazed Angela trying to talk Jen into not leaving. She thought sawing a hole in the hall closet door for MY CATS the best tactic for winning Jen's loyalty. She would allow me to stay there with my cats, and "look the cat box is already waiting their arrival." The problem: I never said I wanted to live there nor did Jen ever hint of the idea. Maybe the awaiting kitty litter would spark my interest. Well that was a long shot. The minute I ever walked onto the woman's property I stepped in dog shit. I knew from the start that something smelled a little funny there on Jefferson St. Immediately, after moving in, and feeling the climate change Jen needed a plan B.





I myself was paying too much money for the small diggs I occupied, so we looked together. That in itself became a long story (another day, another blog!). The day prior to my "find," Jen and I opted out of moving into a place that we were ignoring our gut feelings toward. So there we were on plan D, and she was running out of time before the woman's personalities permanently severed in half. I felt guilty and awful suggesting to Jen that maybe we should look for places independent of one another, since she needed to move in 3 days, while I, along with my bank accounts, would prefer moving in 3 weeks, since I was paying through the first half of December. So I got off the phone with her and for me something fell into place.





I had spent the last two weeks searching for places, filling out applications, falling in love with one country cottage in particular and its setting but we were short roommates and the tag was a pretty price. Then seconds away from signing the lease to this "dream" cottage.....with a rando third roommate.....we didn't. So THEN plan C was SET a brand new apartment for two. The lower, more desirable price helped us close our eyes to the bad location, and the bad all-around vibe. I couldn't do it...it did not feel right.





So when I got off the phone with Jen, with a click of a link, I saw something rare. A rental listing that a part of me smiled at, until the rest of me could not hold back, and joined in. My very being, in its entirety, smiled along with the radiating girl inside me. So the listing went something like this: barn studio for equestrian, and horse in Sonoma. Bring horse. 750/ month plus light stall cleaning in exchange for you and your horse.


Did I give it a second thought? No. Did I let the fact that I do not own a horse stop me? No. All I knew was that when reading that ad, after visiting craiglist's farm and agriculture web page for the first time in my life, I could not stop smiling. I can not attach words to the joy that was bubbling up inside by me only reading the listing. Right there I pictured my new home as a sat, hearing the horses below me. I honestly can say I had a glimpse of now, then, as a sat there with my eyes closed, and felt the joy radiating from my bones that I feel now as I walk and run through the fields, and bury my face in his neck.





I picked up the phone, and dialed. The woman's voice on the recording, was warm and seemed familiar sounding to me. I left a message and heard back within 20 minutes. Often things happen quickly, with such ease. I never had a doubt in my mind of not living there.





I moved in December 15, the same day he moved in. I heard talk of him prior to my eyes meeting him. Chris and Dave told me a young Holsteiner (warmblood) horse was to be prematurely retired and boarded at the barn due to a blood clotting condition. His trainer was heartbroken after all the work she had done with him. I am sure he was her dream horse too. She got to do all the work with him, while I now get to handle all the play.





At first he seemed like an average horse when it came to befriending me. "Do you have any food in your hands? No. Well I think I will go back to eating my grass or chewing this hay." But then I think he realized that I am not your average person. I am not going to ride him any time soon. I am not the hand that feeds him often. Yes, an occasional carrot but not every occasion. I sit down next to him in the grass when he grazes. I graze him by hand around the yard. He has followed me around the round pen playfully trotting after me as I jog, halter and lead rope free, all in jest. We bring out the jokesters in one another.





I introduced him to six Mexican burros whom he smells from across the property all day, everyday. I remained calm and laughed at him when he curiously made his way over to them only to decide that they were alien life form that would reek havoc on life as he knew it. He thought it wise to make the donkeys self-conscious of their differences and life set backs by leaping backwards screaming "run! run!" as he snorted, and backed away. I tried not to split my sides as "my boy" caused a scene that instantly transformed into "donkey drama." All the donkeys in a three mile radius declared a sound war on this horse. I would too if I were them. He is larger than the six combined, showy, and mighty handsome I might add ;)