Friday, September 2, 2011


 Oregon. A land that has captured my heart, and refuses to release it. It's been hard to write this.  Not because there's so little to say, but because there is so much.
Let me explain. No, that will take too long.
Let me sum up.
Summing up. Two penpals.  A fallen-through plan to meet.  Sadness. Girlish chatter.  An idea.  A mention in passing. A stunning father's blessing and approval. Packing.  4 o'clock in the morning.  Flying.  Best Friends.  Living.  On my Own.  Loving it.
On My Own There's something about traveling alone that makes you realize who you really are. What you're willing to accept and what you're simply not going too.  This was a week away from my family, away from everything I've ever known.  There was no one to be directly accountable too, and that was tough.  It was even tougher because several of the people I respect strongly disapproved of this venture.  But hard things are good.
                                                               And I loved it.

The Coast Was.  One word simply isn't enough. It was white waves and great silent rocks and hidden rip-tides.  {much to my great interest - and yes, I really did almost drown. It was great fun!} It was skipping down the beach singing 'What do you do with a Drunken Sailor' at the top of our lungs. It was reenacting the Phantom of the Opera in an echoing cave.  It was climbing to the top of every rock in sight. It was walking miles, deep in discussion, with the water kissing our feet. It was lying flat on your back on a dune, listening to the silence that is never still.

Singing Horse Ranch was golden in the sunset and smelled of sagebrush and wet pines.  It is the home of the well-acclaimed author, Lynn Miller, his wife, daughter, cattle, and draft horses. I slept in the rustic-ly adorable sheep-herder's wagon, and it seemed like home.  Heading to the wagon, the stars were brilliant over-head, and they were the same as in Ohio - only a million times more brilliant. Several of the draft horses woke me early in the morning - they have hooves the size of dinner plates, and one can hear tale. :wink:  I wish I could have spent more time on the ranch - but I know one thing. I can't forget ranch life, and someday - Lord help me, someday, I'm going back.

Time ~ with Scout was marvelous. Time to sit on the steps of  'my' wagon and wink tears away, looking at the snow-covered mountains, and discuss the future.  Time to sing every 50's song - Mrs. Miller has the patience of a Saint. :wink:  Giggling over Basil Rathbone, trying on every hat in her gigantic collection - 'girly' time I never get to have at home. Americanos - more then one-  dancing the 60's 'Twist' on the beach -  it was unforgettable. Oh, and photo shoots. Maybe the most important part. :laughing: 

                                           He will cover you with his pinions,
                             and under his wings you will find refuge;
                                         his faithfulness is a shield and buckler.
                                     You will not fear the terror of the night.
And now I'm home ~ and a dream's been lived. 


Michaela said...

So glad you had such a wonderful time, Kate! :)

Anonymous said...

Lovely! We're so thankful that you're home (at least, for now).

Rachel Keeth said...

I am happy you had such a wonderful time! It sounds awesome! :D