Of sand and horses
A memoir

Thinking back I remember Sand Lake, Oregon. I spent one lovely summer camped out there for much longer than the ten day limit placed there by the park service. But it seamed like all too short of a time. When the moon was full you could walk out along the lake, which was a lake that was formed by the ocean, and watch the lake roll out to become crossable at certain points.
While walking on the shoreline I noticed that the phosphorus in the sand would shine bright purple in the moonlight. Kicking up the sand would create purple flames at my feet. On the other side of the lake there were a herd of wild horses that would come down to the lakeside for whatever reason (I’m not sure as the water was undrinkable); nevertheless every night they came. One night I finally got up the nerve to cross over to the other side and visit them. Just imagine, my biggest fantasy come to life getting to be in the herd of horses. The smell of horses is something you never forget, the sweet grassy breath, and their warmth as they crowd you in. Well I spent several hours with them, just enjoying their company. When I turned to leave, for the tide was coming in and I could not swim, something startled the herd and they took off running. What a sight! The horses running and the sand they kicked up was making purple flames and where the sand landed on them it would glow as illuminated by the moon; creating equestrial abstract outlines as they seemed to be running on top of fire and yet a part of it as well, heading off into the distance. I would repeat this pilgrimage for the next two days before I had to leave.
I was never able to get back to Sand Lake, but it is something I like to remember when I need an escape from real life. So maybe I do get back from time to time, if only in my heart.