Mud Month Escapades

Indian Paintbrush and Prickly Pear Cactus

What a difference a year makes! I know that old saying typically references the difference in a day, not a year, but it keeps ringing in my head as I recap the 'spring round up.'

With predictions of yet another blizzard, we made a run for it.

Sneaking off in the dark of the night, waving bye-bye to those pesky snowdrifts as they disappeared in the rear view mirror.

Flower buds on the Prickly Pears

Ten hours later we set up camp, with our happy horses, near Sedona, Arizona. Where winter is a far distant memory. Buds and bright blossoms greet us at every turn. This was my 2nd year participating in the Caballos del Sol (Horses of the Sun) ~ seven blissful days on a benefit trail ride.

Wild Mallow

• Bonus ~ The money we raise helps out a number of horsie organizations. 
• Double Bonus! ~ The trek to a warmer climate reminds us mountain folk that the sun is shining somewhere, flowers  blooming, too. 

I'd love to speak more positively of it but... this trip stirred up a whole lotta trouble.  For yours truly.

125 horses converged on Sedona for the annual Caballos del Sol trail ride.

Been in a bit of a messy mood ever since I returned. And, that's not really like me. To be all frustrated with the weather. And, openly jealous of my kinder-climate friends.

Jamie & Zeba

Down South, the wildflowers are blooming, nurseries are laden with pretty perennials. I find myself desperately wishing I could be planting something... somewhere... other than a greenhouse.

Has this ever happened to you? 

You while away your days, thinking you've got life all figured out. Then something happens you don't truly care to acknowledge... like a few too many years slipping by. And, then a few more.

I don't know that I could live in the desert but I'm beginning to hear other locations call my name.

The passing of years can take their toll on all sorts of things ~ including those original grand plans I felt so smug about, way back when. I moved to the mountains to ski but I felt no inspiration to ski this year. I mostly just looked out the window and wondered how soon that snow would melt.

Uh oh. It never pays to re-think your entire life but how do you stop once those wheels start turning??

If gardening and horses and all things summer strike my fancy... Why, in the world, am I living on top of a snow-covered mountain?

Red rocks of Sedona, Arizona

* Mud month is a real, true season in the mountains. A winter's worth of snow melts all too quickly turning everything into a muddy mess. Which is why we cowgirls like to get the heck outta Dodge.