The Anomaly

Updated by Gemini AI 2025:

The Anomaly: Mormon Canyon, 1996

Sunup in Mormon Canyon, 1996. Now Old Sun Up holds his proud head high, My golden horse, he yearns to be on the fly. Long tapaderos swing from the Visalia tree, Braided rawhide hackamore and horse-hair mecate.

The Old Man's best display must surely be the break of day, When through the oak leaves bursts the sun's first golden ray. From a high limb, a Steller's jay is sharp a-squawkin', While round the campfire, cowboys sit a-talkin'.

We listen to the lively call of the valley quail, As we ride up that cool blue-shadowed canyon trail. Cottonwoods and sycamores stand by the live oak tree, Through tall green grass, a babblin' brook beside me.

Just ridin' in that California sunshine, Just ridin' that old palomino pal o' mine, Rockin', Rollin', Ridin'.

We’re rockin' to the steady rhythm of a creakin' saddle, Headed out to gather those white-faced cattle. A coyote slinks through the brush with his head hung low, And a Red-tailed hawk circles high above the valley below.

There's a bobcat watching me from the fringe of the willows, And a great Mountain Lion resting on rocky pillows; But my little pack horse, Star, is followin' behind, And like old Sun Up and me, he's the happy kind.

Grazing high upon that sun-lit ridge beyond Are a mule deer doe and her new-born fawn. We see fresh track and sign from brother raccoon During what the old people called the berries ripe moon.

Old oak tree, with limbs so gnarled and bold, Please tell me a tale of the vaqueros of old, Of a time when the Golden Bear still roamed free, Before Sun Up, Star, and I became the anomaly.

Just ridin' in that California sunshine, Just ridin' that old palomino pal o' mine, Rockin', Rollin', Ridin'.

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Sunup in Mormon Canyon 1996.

Now ol' Sun Up holds his head up high,

Pretty little golden horse wants to be on the fly.

Ol’ long tapaderos swingin' from my Visalia tree,

Braided rawhide hackamore an’ a horse-hair mecate.

The Old Man's best display must surely be break of day.

When through oak leaves shines Sun's first golden ray,

And out on a limb a Steller's jay is ah-squawkin'

While cowboys sit around a camp fire ah-talkin'.

We're listenin' to the call of those valley quail,

Ridin' up that blue shadowed canyon trail.

Cottonwoods and sycamores, and a live oak tree,

Tall green grass and a babblin' brook beside me.

Just ridin' in that California sunshine,

Just ridin' that ol' palomino pal o' mine,

Rockin', Rollin', Ridin'. 

We're rockin' to the rhythm of a creakin' saddle,

Just gatherin' up them white-faced cattle.

Coyote slinkin' through the brush with his head hung low,

An’ a Redtailed hawk soarin' high above the valley below.

There's a bobcat in the willows ah-starin' at me

And a big old Mountain Lion we'll never see,

But my little pack horse Star is followin' behind,

And like old Sun Up and me, he's the happy kind.

While grazin' up on that ridge beyond

Is a mule deer doe and her little fawn.

An’ you'll see plenty of sign from brother raccoon

During what the ol' Indian calls berries ripe moon.

Old oak tree with limbs so gnarled and bold,

Please tell me a tale about vaqueros of old,

Of a time when the golden bear still roamed free

And Sun Up, Star and me weren't an anomaly.

Just ridin' in that California sunshine,

Just ridin' that ol' palomino pal o' mine,

Rockin', Rollin', Ridin'. 

Joyce and Star 1997