The hills were alive… and a sea of orange. And Cindy and I sped over the mountain ranges without a care. The world was in turmoil. We didn’t know if Ukraine would make it through another month (they did, they would). But the color of those poppies, the deer peeking from behind the trees, complaining about the interruption of their afternoon naps. The fresh air of the backside of that 8,000 acre ranch… I am grateful to have land to visit and roam. It’s not mine, but it feels like roots. 43 Ranch – San Ardo, CA.
