I want to ride to the ridge where the west commences
And gaze at the moon till I lose my senses
And I can't look at hovels and I can't stand fences
Don't fence me in.
Cole Porter
When I was girl riding through the Tehachapi mountains, I used to sing that song to my horse all the time. The beat of the song fits perfectly with the methodical rhythm of the horse's hooves along a dirt road. Sometimes right when oak trees would begin to fall away to the mountain pines, I would encounter a locked gate or a fence. How sad I would feel that I wouldn't be able to continue riding to discover where the road lead. But usually it was getting late and I was going to have to turn back anyhow. "Besides," I would think, "that fence is probably holding in a big herd of cattle." And my horse for some reason did not like cattle.
Then the other day, Amanda and I went horseback riding. I rode a Tennessee Walking horse for the first time. Oh what a beautiful gaited trot! Quite different from the jumpy little Arabs I grew up riding. But as we rode the wide open country of the Tennessee hills, with its lush wooded valleys and wide open balds, I was once again reminded that "I don't like fences."
As a matter of fact, at that moment, I didn't care if I lived an hour from Target of if my kids would be forced to go to a Pre-K through HS single room school house, I wanted to live further away in the country than I live now. Which really, I live in a perfectly rural, perfectly distanced from town area right now, thank you very much. But I wanted land lots of land with starry skies above and to ride the open country that I love. And knowing me, I probably would ride until the west commences.
And gaze at the moon till I lose my senses
And I can't look at hovels and I can't stand fences
Don't fence me in.
Cole Porter
When I was girl riding through the Tehachapi mountains, I used to sing that song to my horse all the time. The beat of the song fits perfectly with the methodical rhythm of the horse's hooves along a dirt road. Sometimes right when oak trees would begin to fall away to the mountain pines, I would encounter a locked gate or a fence. How sad I would feel that I wouldn't be able to continue riding to discover where the road lead. But usually it was getting late and I was going to have to turn back anyhow. "Besides," I would think, "that fence is probably holding in a big herd of cattle." And my horse for some reason did not like cattle.
Then the other day, Amanda and I went horseback riding. I rode a Tennessee Walking horse for the first time. Oh what a beautiful gaited trot! Quite different from the jumpy little Arabs I grew up riding. But as we rode the wide open country of the Tennessee hills, with its lush wooded valleys and wide open balds, I was once again reminded that "I don't like fences."
As a matter of fact, at that moment, I didn't care if I lived an hour from Target of if my kids would be forced to go to a Pre-K through HS single room school house, I wanted to live further away in the country than I live now. Which really, I live in a perfectly rural, perfectly distanced from town area right now, thank you very much. But I wanted land lots of land with starry skies above and to ride the open country that I love. And knowing me, I probably would ride until the west commences.
2 comments:
Can't wait until you post the pics of Manda's first horseback ride :)
OH I know!! Hopefully soon!!
Post a Comment