When I glance out my office window (in which is three floors up from my living room) it takes me back to a day when I was a small girl. The rainfall, the look of outdoors, and the scents all place my mind back to Sonoma, Ca.
I was about 7, I think. It was very foggy that morning as I walked out of my Grandma’s home and through a small path in the redwoods. Up on the knoll was a Shetland pony - he was so beautiful. His name was, Dusty.
It started to rain. I wanted to ride so bad, so I climbed up on him and instead of going for a ride; I bent forward and rested my head on his. We sat there in the rain for what seemed like hours. I recall singing to him. (I was such a ding dong.) I sang Puff the Magic Dragon over and over. It was a song my Grandma would sing to me. I recall I would get very sad when she got to the close of the song, but I did not that day - I felt peaceful. And of course, I loved the rain then as much as I do today.
So now, I look out my window and I see that little girl, see the long curls, the skin that seemed to live in calamine lotion, the curious 7 yr old who wore poison oak like a second skin every year. I see the pony and all the dreams that I had and I wonder if I am doing what I had planned then. She wanted to be an oceanographer - and now settles for medicine. She lived to be beside the ocean and still does, but seems when we grow up, we rarely have time for those sorts of things.
Friday, May 29, 2009
Babbled by Cher Ferroggiaro at 6:15 PM