On this windy winter afternoon, as I approached her rusted decaying hulk buried in a grassy meadow near the mountain town of Julian California, flashes of black and white Great Depression era movie reels flashed in my imagination. Beaten and savaged over eighty-five years of natures seasons and thousands of miles traveled, her body all but gone, her glory was undeniable, her pride shown in her massive art-deco inspired grill. I could hear the faint sounds of a whispering Victrola spinning the musical stylings of Billie Holiday, Tommy Dorsey, Fred Astaire and Blues legend Robert Johnson. A relic of a distant time, she had once graced the roads of America during some of our nation’s darkest hours, as America’s industrial age and economic prosperity would soon be challenged on the world stage.

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There is something spiritually soothing when being very close to a horse. Humans and horses came together around 14,000 years ago, and the bond between our species has never faltered. I have long been fascinated with the soulful expression in their eyes, and to capture something that is difficult to put into words, but intrinsically felt when I share their company.

As eloquently observed by Joni Mitchell “In their eyes shine stars of wisdom and courage to guide men to the heavens”

And on this chilly crisp winter morning I couldn’t have agreed more. In the dawn’s first light this elegant old mare quietly stood as weary wranglers prepped the morning work. Black on black, I passed by her several times on this hazy Santa Barbara morning. One of fifty, she was poised and calm with the familiar repetition of life on the ranch. The sounds of worn leather boots shuffling dirt, saddles and tack carried in the hands that tend to her, comforting her gentle and curious nature, Black Beauty locked her gaze upon my presence guiding me back to that part of my soul often neglected, blessing me with the wisdom and courage that guides men to the heavens.

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“A bend in the road is not the end of the road…Unless you fail to make the turn.” ― Helen Keller

There is an undeniable energy the moment you stand on a silent stretch of railroad train track; a moment of hesitation knowing the size, speed and danger for which these high iron rails provide passage, burns up your spine. There is also a stillness and calm that draws your imagination down their long steady path, “The permanent way“ structure, the rails, fasteners, railroad ties and ballast, perfectly simple in design, providing safe passage to destinations determined, yet random by our choices. It’s easy to lose your self in these moments, train rails are seductive that way. There is indeed a unique sense of old school romance and adventure that a train whistle captures, the gentle swaying of the train car as the heavy steel wheels travel the rail, the scenery gently passing by as you gaze out a window lost in thought.

Unlike life’s journey, these tracks have a specific destination as they guide and bend around the many obstacles they navigate, only to regain compass and reach their destination. There is comfort in predictability. Our lives are anything but predictable. We encounter the randomness of the universe moment to moment, avoiding the many obstacles life delivers, the bend in the road, only to regain compass and steady the path. But unlike the determined passage these rails traverse, we have a choice; to continue the path to a predictable destination, the lethargy of a comfortable outcome, or bravely change course, disembarking at the bend in the road to forge a new adventurous beginning.

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Sunrise on the Southern California coast never disappoints. In the matter of hours this sleepy surf town sunrise corner will be over taken by thousands of tourists and locals. In the dawn of this new day, familiar tropical fan palms stand regal against the purple and gold sunrise; while the masses sleep she is quiet, calm and very sexy. Just how I prefer to experience her “California Dreamin”

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