The Ranch

I meant to post a little something after visiting my brother's ranch two weekends ago, but never got around to it. So now I'm making up for lost time...

Everyone needs a special somewhere they can go when life gets overwhelming. You know when it feels like you're about to drown but it never pulls you under and you wish it would either hurry up already and suffocate you or just let you go? Well I have found a place that always manages to release me from the threatening waters: my brother's ranch in Northern California on the foothills of the Sierra. It reminds me of my childhood spent in the woods playing with wooden swords, twig and twine bow and arrows, and the hatchet and knife my dad gave me (probably the best gift I have ever received, even to this day). I would run around all day pretending to be some heroine from one of my middle ages fantasy novels saving all of the damsels in distress. 

There are no damsels in distress at the ranch, but there are plenty of woods and quiet spots warmed by a sun that seems so much closer and friendlier up there. I can escape from the hustle and bustle of the city, the clanking garbage trucks, the throngs of people, the overly enthusiastic queens, and sink into a world of gentle winds blowing through iridescent leaves, frogs singing as if in a symphony that engulfs the house at night, and a cuddly, happy, playful dog who nearly overtakes me at my first step in the gate with slobbery kisses and a mass of fuzz.

It is the kind of place that allows me to truly think, to clear my mind of all troubles and worries and contemplate what my life means.

I hope that I am not the only one who has such an amazing place of refuge, and that in fact every human on this wonderful planet can slip away for a few days to where they are most happy.