We're in Corvallis!

Can it be real? Honeychild and I made it to Corvallis, Oregon, in the warm breezy hours of the deep dark night. Honey bolted off that horsetrailer like a honeybee chasing a hungry bear - she was a big tired Muley who needed to pee in deep wood shavings and roll and shake in a dust hole. Once Muley was happily settled into her big new stall I crawled off to my own fluffy cloud. I'd planned on staying in the bunkhouse, but the night was so mild and lush that I couldn't stand to be out of it. I unrolled my sleeping bag in the night-shadow of an apple tree and swapped out my dusty travel clothes for long johns. Half way through my task I collapsed and fell back, staring at the stars above me. The insects chirruped loudly from the trees crowding around the edge of the lawn. "What wonderful heaven," I thought to myself. "Trees, trees, trees, trees, trees." I held my eyes on the stars and waited for my sign. A moment later, a shooting star darted across the bottom of the sky. "Good," I thought, "I'm in the right place."

Waking up in the morning was like finding myself in the middle of a surprise gift and unwrapping it from the inside out. I'd driven into Corvallis in the dark, so I scarcely knew what surrounded me. When dawn broke, I found I was in the midst of trees, dhalias, sunflowers, barns, outbuildings, and dozens of mules. I plucked my breakfast from an obliging branch and set off to explore. There was Muley, head hanging out of her stall, braying to me. I haltered her and led her out for a walk. Rounding the barn, another surprise greeted us -- a zorse (a zebra-horse hybrid) was grazing contentedly in a small pen. Just beyond it, a male peacock was settled on the grass. And above the peacock was an oak tree! An OAK tree! What relief. Oak trees and apple trees will make this place home.