Yesterday I was feeling all sentimental, as well as in need of some different sites, so I took my walk by turning left instead of right from my driveway, to look at the part of the ranch we sold and the part that was my friend Sara’s ranch (visit her new projects on the Wild Type Ranch website).

I enjoyed seeing all the late-spring wildflowers on the roadside and marveled at how fast river cane (Arundo donax) grows back after mowing.








I checked out the abandoned farm next to the Shuffield/Tyson place, which keeps falling down more and more, but that’s just fine, because now it’s host to many birds, and judging from the scat, either a bobcat or feral domestic cats.



Eventually I turned and walked down the road connecting our two ranches and leading by my son’s cabin residence. Wow. There were some beautiful vistas of black-eyed Susans in the fancy pasture.






I got all nostalgic looking at where Aragorn and Spice used to live. There’s a great view looking down from there.

By the way, Spice must miss her old pasture, because she made a break for it when the gate was briefly opened. Luckily some beautiful oats distracted her, making it easy to take her back. She can’t help being so obedient. She’s well trained.

Next I enjoyed the huge tree next to the old chicken coop where I tried to care for all the chickens no one wanted anymore. Maybe my son can fix it up and use it.

The final stretch is where I admired the vistas looking west. There were always beautiful sunsets there, and you can see a long way, which you can’t from my house, due to the woods.

What I saw next gave me a laugh, the tank/pond where I went on my first ride on Apache outside of the round pen.

He followed Spice and Sara up to the berm that makes the pond, straight at a mesquite tree. Rather than get mauled, I bailed.

That was my first unplanned dismount from that boy. Memories.

Back at our pasture, I hung out with the chickens and horses and once again expressed gratitude that I have an opportunity to explore this area in Central Texas. It’s not much, but at least for now, some of it is still ours.























