Well, nothin' went quite the way I figured, yesterday; heat, smoke and wild winds, kicked up by passin' thunderstorms, kinda kept me guessin' and reconsiderin'.
I did get a phone call from an old friend, though, talked a little about life, gettin' old and some of the good, young folks are findin'; ways of connectin' and maybe workin' together for a better world.
We go back quite a ways, me and him, teenagers back east, full of dreams and questions, inspiration; we weren't about ta settle for nine ta five, a wife, a car, a house and 2.5 children. And, we both made some unusual choices; got ta know each other, heart and soul, doin' volunteer work overseas, in some tough situations. Now, old, both of us penniless, by any "civilized" measure, the questions some times come and he was sharin' some a his. We laughed and talked about the stuff that always mattered and how happy and lucky we were, and are, and the peril of gettin' distracted; lookin' right or left, other folks, what they have, comparin' ourselves.
I remember once, I was workin' on this ranch in Northern New Mexico, right on the Colorado boarder. Me and my horse were lookin' for strays, up in the hills and we headed out across this ridge, that was pretty thin, dropped off pretty steep and pretty far on either side, but it was the only way we was gonna get where we needed ta go 'fore we run outta daylight. Well, we were doin' o.k. 'till we got near the end and we run into this pumpin' station built right on the end a this ridge. I'd got off my horse some ways back, thin and steep as it was, and with daylight fadin' there we were, a couple miles out, no way ta turn around, barb wire on one side and chain link on the other, about two feet between 'em and no promise that we could get out once we started in. My horse, still pretty young then, clearly didn't like the look a things and I could tell, he was considerin' "a rodeo", which stood no chance of endin' well. He was lookin' around kinda wide eyed, his breathin' was gettin' short and irregular and he was startin' ta back peddle. I wasn't too happy neither, I sure loved that horse and it'd a been some tough, ever forgive myself for steerin' him into a jam like that; as the consequences had shaped up most likely fatal, either way but straight. I did the only thing I could think; I gave him a good firm bump with my lead line, get his mind back and started in, as if I had no doubt. Well, about 100 yards later, and one tight 90 degree turn, barb wire rubbin' him on one side, chain link on the other, whole way, we come out the other side. If he could talk, I reckin' he'da cussed me pretty fair. But, there we were and only 6 or 7 miles from home on a nice sandy oil field road.
I never figured on tellin' that story; when yer that dumb and that lucky, sometimes it's best just, keep yer mouth shut. But, honest, I had no way a knowin' that little ridge'd turn into a jam like that, just looked like the short way home from the far end.
God Bless and Have a Great Day!