The houses grew farther apart from each other as I exited the freeway and began the climb through the rolling mountains of Ramona until there weren’t any houses at all. I remembered to turn the A/C off, power the windows down, and inhale fresh air. I drove past farms and long rows of mismatched mailboxes, who’s owners homes I couldn’t see down dusty roads. I felt totally at peace.

Tara’s family lived in a home on 1200 acres of property in Santa Ysabel when she was a small child. They still run cattle on the property although the family no longer lives there. Riding in the back of Tara’s father’s pickup truck through the open expanse of grass, bouncing along, pure contentment swept over me. I imagine this must be even more true for Tara, who’s childhood memories are alive in this place.

Thank you for sharing such a beautiful, special piece of the world with me. I love your photos. I hope you enjoy them as well!

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