It’s a special day here on Infinity Farm. I signed loan papers on this property on the last day of the month. Good for escrow. It was a full moon on Halloween, October 1999. It had been a rough few years, and I had lost so much that I thought I had nothing left to … Read more
May I brag? I have that strange career where I travel a lot, see beautiful country as a routine part of my work. I never underestimate the importance of the land when working with horses. Horses depend on their local environment and so do we. The farm girl inside can’t look away, whether it’s the … Read more
The mare stands square, extending her neck, surveying the pond marsh. Are the coyotes on the move? She takes three or four precise steps closer and holds, eyes alert for small movements out of rhythm. So aware of the earth’s language, without the dulling filter of floors and walls, she feels change by the shifting … Read more
Seems every farm family had one in a generation; a distant misfit girl-cousin who read too much or wore men’s jeans or hated to cook. As soon as she could, she traveled away to Portland to work in a library or to Tucson to be an artist. The family only whispered her name then, kitchen … Read more
You had a plan for how this would go when you left home. Longing for a thing different than how it was. Maybe a career or a husband. Maybe the perfect sofa because you wanted to rest, blanket around your feet and a tortoise-shell cat like the one when you were a kid, lounging … Read more
The rhythm of hooves over even soft ground, we’ve lost time out together, rocked safe in the saddle like breeze through the oaks toward a bottom-heavy sun. Lulled by the sway of his stride, we’ve wandered too far, dirt-worn and words gone. Just as I pause, not sure of the way, his cadence builds … Read more
Skeletal power poles from the wind turbines out east litter the view of the mountains, splintering the sunset. New construction treads closer, tract homes and fast food. This farm was never announced by miles of white vinyl fencing, just a mailbox at the end of the driveway. There are mismatched fence panels, some white, some … Read more
Directions
Hair caught up on wire.
Finding the way.
Memoir Babies not embraced turn into sullen kids not good enough, graduating to insecure young adults, lost in bad decisions for long skeletal years, just searching for the undeniable place where shoulders soften, bellies peacefully sag, and each breath out hums the melody of utter belonging. …. Anna Blake at Infinity Farm Horse Advocate, Author, … Read more
Labor Day Message