Remembering a different life

I lived in Flower Mound, Texas in my early teens. On Shiloh road, in an old farmhouse on a horse ranch. My extra-curricular activities were cleaning water troughs and horse stalls, hauling hay, unloading feed trucks, washing and exercising horses. I visited in the early 2000's and was shocked and saddened how altered the area had become. Gone were open fields and country roads, replaced with MacMansions, swimming pools and concrete. 

I recently spoke with someone living in Flower Mound and was curious if the old house and property were still there. Had it been divided and conquered? The house appears to be gone, but the property is there. Nice to see land that doesn't have a track of houses on it. I can remember driving in an old blue truck, throwing hay in the fields. Riding horses down to the "tank" to fish and hang out. Drove that old truck (before I had my driver's license) on Farm to Market 1171 to Grapevine Lake to sunbath. Ride horses on that same FM1171 in the summer. Scent of weeds scorching in summer sun. The sound of insects buzzing and calling, getting bitten by horse flies. Life seemed difficult, my parents struggled to get along and make ends meet. 

Looking back now, it feels quiet, slow and innocent. Full of nature and chores. Waking up before the sun to watch mares foal. Mares palpated, horses being shod, cutting themselves on barbed wire and cleaning their wounds. Sitting up all night with sick foals. Weeping over a few that didn't make it. Listening to the Jackson 5 on the truck radio, windows open, suntanned arms, braided ponytails, dirty, worn boots. A true sweetness to be remembered. 

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