Our Own Private Forest

Though we live about 20 minutes from downtown LA, and there is a major freeway bissecting our town, I usually feel like I live a million miles from the major metropolis, at least the stereotypes thereof. People from out of state and out of town, it seems, think of people who live in LA as shallow, rich, shopaholic, plastic and botoxed and obsessed with celebrity culture. I'm sure there's some truth to this for many Angelinos and probably many people in our own little town. But as I walk or drive around town, I am much, much more likely to see women in sweats, their hair in a ponytail, walking a big dog than someone in the latest fashion, with a face unrecognizable to their high school friends and a dog in their purse. The original purpose of our little town was to be in "the country." It seems that much of that original purpose has been replaced by suburban shopping centers, SUVs and houses that fill an entire lot. But some elements remain. We still have very few street lights or sidewalks. Most of the town is still not on sewers. The city is littered with trees; eucalyptus, sycamores and California oaks, some smackdab in the middle of the road. And we have our horse trails.

Today the kids and I decided to have an adventure. Inevitably, these adventures take place on the horse trail. We've been exploring different aspects of it, going for short walks, collecting pinecones and leaves. Since we are on two feet (and not four), there is only so far we can go at a time. Today we were in a new (to us) part of the trail, canopied in ancient oaks. Even though today was a holiday and a gorgeous fall day, we came across only four other people on our walk. We had the trail almost completely to ourselves. The kids made up stories about where we were as we explored what felt like our own private forest. It was beautiful, peaceful and centering; the perfect way to forget about the stress of every day life. How lucky that we are to have all this right here in our own town. My kids were so excited to see two "big kids" who were having their own adventure, scouting spots for a scene in their "movie." (OK, it is still LA.) I can't wait for them to have their own adventures without me, like my childhood friends Sarah and Heidi and I used to do. I am often envious of people who live on huge properties of land or people in other parts of the country who have woods behind their backyard. Imagine that! How quick I am to forget what is in my own backyard.

One aspect of our walk was a little sad for me, though. We didn't come across a single horse. I know there are still horses in our town. We see them. We stop our car for them when they cross the road. There is even one family who rides home from school sometimes in a horse-drawn buggy. (Seriously. How cool is that?!) But they are getting more and more obsolete. I'm afraid that one day all the beautiful horse properties in town will be filled with enormous houses, swimming pools and play equipment, the barns and stables and horse spaces converted into something else entirely. Or worse yet, someone will subdivide the land and put on two or three or four enormous houses. As you walk along the horse trails, you can see into many of the yards of the homes that back the trails. Gates in the properties make for easy access on horseback. We saw lots of stables, one with six stalls and an enormous green area where horses once ran and grazed. Not a single stable that we saw today had a horse. Some appeared to be converted into storage. One is maybe a poolhouse or a guesthouse now. But most are just empty, their rooves starting to cave in. I don't really remember because well, my memory is spotty at best. But I know that horses were much more prolific in my youth. I remember bringing along a carrot or an apple to feed the horse on the street behind mine. Horses were as much a part of our town as the schools that now define it. It seems that some of the country has left our little town, left many of the stables empty and deserted. And though I have never ridden a horse, I still dream of someday opening a gate from my backyard, leaving behind a refurbished stable and hitting the trails on horseback.

Today the kids and I collected berries and acorns, freshly fallen after this morning's wind storm. Tomorrow we will make a wreath using them to adorn our front door. It will remind me to enjoy the nature that is right around me; enjoy these simple times while my children are young enough to enjoy them with me; and appreciate what has been, what is and what will be in an ever-evolving world.