Cowgirls

“Like a paint-colored mustang she’s fast and she’s wild.”

My family traveled out west when I was 16 to vacation in San Diego. The mountains, the desert, the ocean were all manifesting before my eyes.

And as we sailed through the sands of Nevada, and beneath the towering rocks in Utah, I realized it was my destiny to be out West, and to roam free in the open. I realized it was my destiny to be a cowgirl.

Though I admit it is highly romanticized in my mind, and I have never ridden a horse, the lifestyle of a lone ranger is appealing because of the vast freedom. The American West is more restricted than it was during the lifetimes of Butch Cassidy and Theordore Roosevelt, yet a spirit of emancipation still exists within its vast desolation and dusty highways.

I admire the cowgirl spirit, and the rebellion and confidence of Western women reside in my heart, and ache for release. Colors, from the soft-gold Kansas plains, to the deep indigo which hangs over Colorado come midnight, magnify in my mind as I am reminded of the antique population which inspires me the most.