Oh, what a picture perfect salt-scented island(ish peninsula) it is. There were harbors full of boats, yachts even. There were ice cream stands and touristy shops to buy sweatshirts to tell the world in big bold lettering that you'd visited Balboa Island (if you're into that sort of thing) and the types of boutiques where people buy $90 baby shoes without consideration. Sidewalk cafes to suit any craving. Big dogs and little dogs and friendly, well fed neighborhood birds. Quaint seaside houses snuggled side by side, looking like the stuff of a Pottery Barn summer catalog. A chugging ferry taking cars and people and bikes from Balboa to Newport and back again.
But nothing about Balboa Island had Anderson quite so smitten as the horse. (He is from Texas, yall. Yee Haw!)
The love between boy and beast was tentative at first.
My boy decided this might be good.
Oh, yes. Very fun! Giddy-up!
He rode again and again and again.
Until sadly, we ran out of quarters.
Goodbyes are never easy.
And what about the little Miss, you ask? Did she enjoy the Balboa trip on her very last day of being a two month old?
Why yes, yes she did. That's contentment if ever I've seen it.