Her first ride on a mini pony—where the world of horses suddenly felt just her size.
I spent last week in Texas visiting friends and family on their ranch.
Ranch life has its own pace. Mornings begin with the quiet (or rather, not so quiet) sounds of animals stirring and the steady routines that come with caring for them. Days stretched out across pastures and gardens. Evenings gather people back together around kitchens and tables.
It’s not slower exactly, ranch life is plenty busy, but it is grounded. When you spend several days inside that rhythm, something in your own system begins to settle into it too. This particular visit held a little bit of everything: horses, family surprises, shared meals, and a quiet full moon ritual beneath a Texas sky.
A Surprise Reunion
I knew my aunt would be visiting, while I was there. What she didn’t know was that I was coming too. Our friend and I planned it that way.
I pulled in the driveway and heard, “I have a surprise for you.” She saw my white SUV come down the driveway, but it took her a second to recognize me as the driver, me. The look on her face once she realized it was me, was priceless. It’s always special to see family, but there’s something particularly delightful about a reunion when one doesn’t expect it.
She and her family were there for the whole week with us and participated in all of the week’s little adventures—riding horses, sharing meals, and even gathering with us later under the full moon when we pulled tarot cards from my Moonology deck. We even had a baking day, followed by an evening of delicious homemade curry!
The Ranch Kitchen
A lot of ranch magic happens in the kitchen. If you’ve ever spent time around ranch families, you know the kitchen becomes the center of everything. People move through it constantly—someone slicing bread, someone else pulling ingredients from the fridge and all the while, conversations weaving through the room as meals come together.
During the week I helped cook several meals and shared my bread recipe along the way. There’s something wonderfully communal about passing recipes between people like that. Bread especially has a way of bringing people together. Simple ingredients transforming into something warm and nourishing that everyone gathers around.
By the end of the evening the kitchen smelled like fresh food, laughter filled the room, and plates kept returning to the table for just one more. Moments like that remind me that food is rarely just about food; it’s hospitality, it’s memory, it’s connection.
A Pony Just Her Size
One of the sweetest moments of the week belonged to my daughter. She’s almost three now, and if you’ve spent time around toddlers you know they approach the world with curiosity and gusto. Horses fascinate her, but most of them tower over her like moving mountains (and that makes mom nervous!)
This ranch, however, had the perfect solution; a mini. Not just a smaller horse, but a truly tiny pony, the perfect size for her.
Watching her sit on that little pony felt like watching a doorway open. Suddenly the horse world wasn’t intimidating anymore, more for me than her, I think. It was approachable. Friendly. On her scale.
She sat there with that serious concentration toddlers get when they’re doing something both exciting and slightly uncertain, holding carefully while the pony was led along in slow, patient steps. She was super tired, having missed her nap that day, but she loved it.
Horses have always been incredible teachers, and sometimes they’re especially good teachers for children. They meet you exactly where you are. They don’t rush the process.
And sometimes, if you’re lucky, they come in miniature form.
Riding Friesians
While my daughter had her moment with the mini pony, I had the chance to ride something quite different. Two Friesian mares. If you’ve ever been around Friesians, you know they carry a presence that’s difficult to describe. Tall and powerful, black as night, with thick manes and that floating movement that feels almost mythical. They look like they stepped straight out of a fantasy story. My Mae is a Friesian Sporthorse (Friesian cross), but she is untrained as of yet. So, it’s been years since I’d ridden a Friesian.
Each horse has its own personality. Most will test you, even subtly. Both these mares were willing and looking to please. One of them had more training, was more consistent in her movements and more confident. The other was green as a spring day, but you could tell she was listening for what you want from her. Both rides were great fun.
Under the Full Moon
On the second evening, the moon rose full over the ranch. As most of you know, I love the full moon; all the energy, the full silvery light it casts over the land, it’s glorious. There is something special about being out under a full moon when you’re far from city lights.
The sky feels bigger somehow and the land glows softly.
We had intended to step outside and gather quietly under the night sky, but by the time the events for the day were done and the clean up from supper had happened, we were all exhausted. Rather than doing anything elaborate, we pulled tarot cards from my Moonology deck and spent a few moments reflecting on the energy of the night.
The cards that appeared were fitting ones for the moment: Full Moon in Pisces and Full Moon in Virgo.
Pisces and Virgo sit opposite each other in the zodiac, balancing intuition with practicality, dreams with grounded action. The symbolism felt perfect for a week that had been both reflective and deeply rooted in everyday ranch life.
Full moons have always carried a sense of pause with them, an invitation to look at what’s unfolding in your life and consider what might be ready to shift or grow. Sitting there in the living room on that Texas night, surrounded by family, it felt easy to listen to that invitation.
The Rhythm of a Different Pace
When you spend several days inside another rhythm, one shaped by animals, land, shared meals, and open sky, your own nervous system begins to respond. You breathe differently. You move differently. You remember that life doesn’t always have to be rushed or complicated. Ranch life still requires work, of course. Animals need care, meals need cooking and of course there’s riding, shelling pecans and planning, but beneath all of it runs a steady, grounded pace that feels deeply human.
As I headed home, I carried a little bit of that rhythm with me.
Weeks like this remind me that the things that nourish us most are often very simple:
Good horses. Good food.Good people.
And occasionally, a full moon rising over a quiet Texas ranch.
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