11
ROXY
The drive to the farm was jaw-dropping. Guernsey dairy cows with incredibly long eyelashes grazed in fields of emerald green grass. Mountains, not hills, surrounded the flat valley with sharp slopes covered by redwood and Douglas fir. The steep pitches formed tens of thousands of years ago when fault lines collided.
At the foot of one slope was a flat area with a beautiful horse barn and farm. Lupine bloomed in the fields, and the fruit trees of the adjoining field were in full blossom.
Five horses swished their tails and moved along the sprouting grass, heads down, like giant, silent lawn mowers.
We parked Buck’s Charger and a long-legged, jodhpur-wearing woman came sauntering toward us.
“Hey, y’all.” Shaking hands, we made our introductions. “Come on in, you two. Coffee’s o
