Thursday, December 30, 2004
Chasing Ponies
My mind seems to dwell alot lately in the hills of the town where I grew up. I grew up in alot of different towns, but just one keeps seeping into my daily activities. Poway. It's an Indian name. I can't remember what it means now, something about a valley. It was surrounded by small hills, of course when I was little they all seemed rather large to me. The hills were empty except for some large boulders and sage brush. Sometimes I can still smell the sagebrush, but it was the combination of the sage brush, the southern California heat that plays heavily with my mind. Everyday I get these sensations. I think because that is when I remember being happiest in my life. Free in the sense that any child should feel free. I was unencumbered with the worries of the world. I just played happily amongst the hills and boulders. On the hill up behind the houses on our street sat a huge green water tower. Somedays we would bring food and hike up the hill and sit in amongst the trees and look down upon our world. Usually though we played close to the fence line that separated the houses from our hills. I was always wanting to play Indians. Never cowboys, though my friend Kay, she was a cowboy wannabe. I always had moccasins, the kind with the leather sole. The little fringe around the ankle with the leather lace. These were all I wore anywhere. They made a certain sound when they touched the ground where you walked. Where other kids might want taps on there shoes, I preferred the muffled sound of leather. Sitting in a patch of sage brush, I'm sure there were other shrubs, I just don't know what they were, but sitting in nest of bushes sat these huge boulders. They were all different shaped, but all were rounded. The largest one we nicknamed Maya. Maya was the elephant in the Tarzan series. But she was our Maya. She had huge rounded shoulders and her ears hung down the sides so you could sit behind them. I probably spent hours on her. Not always riding, but laying on her back soaking up the warm sun. She held the heat and radiated warmth even when the sun went down. We had made little paths in and around all the boulders and had our little campsites, minus the fire, we gathered our make believe berries and lived a quite and peaceful life. There was a long stretch of road, just a dirt road, and we would run this, slapping our sides and making the sounds of running horses. We were always chasing wild ponies. I remember being able to see these horses, I was always trying to catch the wild palamino. Back and forth we'd run on this path. I loved the sound, I loved the sun and warmth, I loved the sweat that rolled down my back as I ran faster. We could play up there all day, and only when the shadows disappeared and voices from far away would call our names did we go back.
¶ 12/30/2004 09:39:00 AM
¶ 12/30/2004 09:39:00 AM
