palace of winds

I open my balcony door to let in the cool morning air; it brings with it an unexpected edge of autumn and I mentally check my calendar. Early August, still, in a year when our summer came monstrously late, not settling in until mid-June. And here, suddenly, a breeze that whirls in all falling leaves, pumpkins, heavy cable-knit turtlenecks.

On my morning blog-checking rounds I find that Carmon in New Mexico noticed this same season-shift yesterday, and looking at the pictures of her mountains folding off into the far clouded distance I fall unexpectedly back to Peru, to my valley a day’s ride into the mountains outside Cuzco. Have I talked about coming to the ruins there? The sun fading fast on us, shadows sliding up the sweeping mountainsides? I huddle shivering in the saddle, jacket zipped to my chin, knit cap pulled low over my ears and eyebrows. We have been mirroring the herd of llamas across the valley to our west, heading home for the night, and suddenly in all this distant deserted mountainland there before us is a little valley with a scattering of huts, paddocks sketched round with low adobe walls, the meandering of a stream and the ghost of an Incan outpost, centuries old.

I am taken suddenly, utterly, by a sense of homecoming. I have another life here. I cannot shake the sense of it, the call to stop here, or return here, to take deep rest in this little retreat. To step each morning into the high clear air, to lie down each night in a small earthen home beneath this bright sweep of stars. I am sure the reality would be different; it is an improbable dream. But what a promise of peace. What a thought to bring you through.

I had a whole lovely entry written about my trip to California last weekend, and Firefox crashed on me, as it is wont to do now that I’ve installed Rhapsody. There is something explosive about the combination of Firefox, Rhapsody, and Adobe Reader, and half the time they’re running in combination they destroy each other.

My gist, though, was that I had a fabulous time. All things considered Bryce and I see each other fairly often (though never often enough, of course), but because of time zones and flight schedules I only get out there once or twice a year, so when I do I get to demand request all of my favorite things: Hobee’s & Country Gourmet, skydiving, Allison, Arkham Horror, Rock Band. I had something of a horrible July, so coming home with another jump under my belt and blisters from too much drumming was a good feeling indeed.

Yesterday my office played hooky; we snuck out mid-morning to head up to my boss’s cabin. We spent the day on the lake, playing on the jetski and cruising in the pontoon, drinking and fishing, having a nice leisurely dinner, setting off fireworks. The weather was entirely perfect, sunny and 80’s. I could easily envision the rest of life in a sleepy little cabin on a forest-hugged lake. Just mix in some family, some horse, and I’m there.

Sunday Ev and I had a great time at our clinic. We accomplished Goal #1 (stay on the horse). There were actually no other formalized goals, but really I was going for a safe, positive experience, and we definitely had one. He was excited when we got there, and it’s a little hilarious for me watching the video back because he felt so up to me, all animated, looking at everything — and in the video he looks totally calm. So I think partly it’s that I’ve gotten used to riding him in total surfer-dude/half-asleep mode, and partly that our few previous crashes have left me a bit rattled and every time he takes a look at something I’m half expecting him to leap and take off in some unexpected direction (which is kind of unfair to him because while he is a baby, overall he’s a pretty laid-back guy). So mostly I was the more nervous of the two of us at the clinic.

We rocked it, though — we did our first: pile of poles, crossrail, little log, bigger little log, baby ditch(es), up-bank, up-bank to up-bank, down-bank, bridge crossing, water time, etc etc. My group was split up at the beginning — which worked really well, since there were two of us out for the very first time and two with more experience — but one of my new barn buddies caught a little video in the beginning and mid-way through when we were back in the same field. We shall speak not of my position (a nine year break from jumping does not, I can report, improve your form over fences), but look instead upon the Boo’s calm willingness, and imagine the eventers we will one day be:

Y’all, this last week has been a trial. I don’t want to talk about the bad stuff, though, because the world is full of people who are kind and generous and good at heart, and the rest of ‘em are just not worth it.

So, you ask, the good stuff? On Wednesday I had a mini spa visit and afterwards stopped in this home decor store on a whim, lured by many, many large SALE signs. They actually had a lot of stuff I liked (the influences often seemed to be Asian and a touch Victorian and somewhat fairytale, which is a really inadequate description), and surprisingly good prices (especially given they’re in a pretty expensive shopping center). After a little hemming and hawing I picked up some framed art from the clearance section (four carved wood panels, each about a foot square), thinking it might fit a blank space in my bedroom. I’ve been meaning to buy some colorful fabric to stretch & staple over frames for that area, but for the price (and knowing how much longer my original plan could take) I couldn’t really go wrong. (So much for budgeting this month.) When I got them home I — well, okay, I went immediately to bed because it was almost 11 — but the next morning I propped them up along the back of my couch, eyeballed it, and decided they’d look perfect in that space. Which is fabulous because I’ve been kicking around ideas for that big blank spot forever and hadn’t yet hit on one I was totally thrilled with.

Other good stuff: tomorrow is Alex’s birthday party; he’s turning three. It’s amazing how time flies. I’m making his cake (and really need to get a frosting recipe chosen). And Sunday is my jumping clinic and the big move.

A week or two ago my cherry tomatoes finally started to ripen, and most days I find a moment to stand out on my balcony, eating one or two straight off the vine and watching the weather. Two days ago there was afternoon light so warm and unbelievable I felt I could fall right over the railing into a painting. This morning the most delicate of rain, a whispering mist of summer grey.

So yesterday I sent in my entry form for a cross-country jumping clinic that’s being held a week from Sunday. After I dropped it in the box I figured I should, you know, try my horse over a few fences before taking him.

Last night I put out two cavalletti to lunge him over. If you’re wondering, cavalletti look something like this. The barn has nice sturdy wooden ones, which is good because Ev is a bit of a pole killer. I started at the lowest height — just groundpoles — to get him warmed up. Then I bumped one up to the middle height. When he was comfortable with that, I switched the other to the highest. Even at their highest they’re quite low — he could easily walk over them. Perfect baby stuff.

He loved it. He was very engaged, ears up, and nicely forward. The last time around he got his striding perfect to the higher pole and gave just the cutest little jump over it. I’d originally planned to ride him after the lunge work, but it was beastly hot and I was just so happy with his effort that I stopped him right there and made a gigantic fuss over him. He looked very proud of himself.

Around lunchtime today I was hit with this total excitement to go back out there tonight. Six months ago that wouldn’t've been remarkable, but the change in atmosphere at the barn this summer has robbed me of a lot of my oomph. I’m relieved to feel that passion again.