on January 30th, 2010 by mark
“I have met with but one or two persons in the course of my life who understood the art of Walking, that is, of taking walks — who had a genius, so to speak, for sauntering, which word is beautifully derived “from idle people who roved about the country, in the Middle Ages, and asked charity, under pretense of going a la Sainte Terre,” to the Holy Land, till the children exclaimed, “There goes a Sainte-Terrer,” a Saunterer, a Holy-Lander.”
-Henry David Thoreau
The green hills that roll above Agoura Hills in northwest Los Angeles County are alive this time of year. They roll off into the west toward the ocean and hide paths among 200 year old oak trees, thriving yucca plants and jutting rock formations reaching for the sky.
Sue and Peanut, Scoop the wonderdog and I found ourselves sauntering above Paramount Ranch off Kanan and Cornell Roads. The ranch was the site of dozens, even hundreds of movie and television shows dating back to the 1930′s. From MASH to Little House on the Prairie to 1937′s Wells Fargo, the place is steeped in Hollywood Western History.
We arrived amid a crush of cars and trucks and trailers. Horses were being offloaded and guided up paths and a ranger gave us permission to pull in alongside them and make our way to the trails. The mass of people were quiet, purposeful and headed in one direction. They were there for a memorial service, apparently of a man who was unique and good, who was a mounted police officer and who was well loved.
We kept clear to allow the grieving their time and we headed for the trail. Scoop led the way as soon as we got off the beaten paths. I took off his leash and he became young again, running through brush, stopping at each tree and watching the horses with a disinterested gaze.
Peanut didn’t want to go at first, but as we moved along the trail, cool breeze in our faces and sky-blue overhead, she began talking the words of an excited 8-year old and her imagination took hold. She was dreaming and talking, running and laughing and she grew tired as we walked endless path after endless path leading back into the green hills, across dry creek beds, up rambling hills and over hoof-prints in the rain-soft dirt.
Sue had a smile on nearly the whole time and she, good wife and mother that she is, brought a backpack with water bottles keeping all hydrated, including the dog. Each time the water bottles came out, Scoop would prance back over the hills, out of the brush and lick his chops until we poured him a mouthful.
I breathed deeply, hummed softly, prayed gently and found myself feeling better than I’ve felt in weeks-even months. All for the cost of driving up to the ranch and a quick bite of lunch on the way home. The next time, the backpack will have sandwiches in it and a small blanket.
Saturday Sauntering may well become our new habit. I surely hope so.
Posted in Family
The memorial service was for a friend and fellow Kiwanian, Dale Rickards. I’ve spoken of him before, as he was the man who sold the horse drawn hearse in front of the Haunted Mansion to Disneyland. He was a mounted officer with the LAPD “way back when” and had some great stories to tell. In recent years, longer than I knew him, he was in the movie prop business, maintaining a small ranch in the Santa Monica Mountains where he kept Western props, and hosted photo sessions for magazines and the like. Unfortunately, a prior commitment kept me from this service. I’m glad to hear, though not surprised, that it was well attended.