Rhythmic rocking, the creak of a well-worn saddle, a blasting wind in my face. Yes, it was happening. I was horseback riding in the Badlands of South Dakota. 

Cool temperatures. Lights dancing through the evening sky. I took my time strolling the Choctaw Capitol Grounds on Friday evening after watching the powwow Grand Entry. (See video snippets on my Facebook page)

As I passed the large old brick Council House, I turned my head to follow its clean lines, the red mansard roof contrasted by the fading blue sky as night crept over the Potato Hills surrounding Tuskahoma, Oklahoma.

I hadn’t been away from our booth much in two days. It felt good to stretch my legs, to take in the sights and sounds of the four day Choctaw Labor Day festival. There in the distance was the Ferris Wheel at the carnival, and I smiled, thinking about researching Mr. Ferris’ Wheel last year for my novel (Traitors) set in 1893. 

Along the road, children scampered around people with their dogs, and I thought of being a little girl at this festival with my brother, Mama, Daddy and our little black Chinese pug, Coal Younger. All night gospel singings where I’d fall asleep on the cool bleacher under the covering of the huge amphitheater. Living memories.