Tyler Oaks on the Move: Sheep as Nouns, Rams as Verbs

Tyler Oaks, author of Ruby Rest, at Domaine Carneros Winery.

There are certain fountains that I cannot resist running my fingers under. It’s as though the water is magnetic, and I have to feel it in order to experience the place. Each time I make my way up the steps to the eighteenth-century style chateau at Domaine Carneros, I stop when I see the ram heads. I always reach out to allow one of the two rams to spit a clear stream of water into my hand. It doesn’t matter that on this last visit, I was soaked by a three-year-old whose parents were out of view on the terrace drinking sparkling wine. Even the laughing child could not distract me from the water dripping from my fingertips and the dark rams.

As children, sheep are one of the first animals we sing about. “Mary Had a Little Lamb” and “Baa, Baa, Black Sheep” run through our heads as we swing at the playground or construct towers of blocks on the living room floor. Sheep seem to be everywhere during those years in the nursery. Little Bo Peep lost hers, and you never could be too sure a wolf wasn’t hiding under all that fluffy fleece. Somewhere along the way, we’re told to count sheep to fall asleep at night when otherwise sheep would probably never come to mind as our heads hit the pillow. Later we become black sheep at times, and sheep take on a negative connotation.

Wherever we are along the way, sheep are never presented to us as brilliant. Cute, useful, idyllic even, but never as terribly bright or exciting. If we think back to Sunday school or even to George Orwell’s Animal Farm we know that sheep will follow each other in circles and are perfectly content to be, well, sheep needing to be led to be saved from nothingness or pure defenselessness. Somehow rams are different. Their very name is a verb, and a strong one as it forms on our lips. The mere mention of a ram and horns suddenly come to mind, not prey animals.

The ram is a symbol of several gods, including Khnum, the Egyptian creator god. Throughout mythology and both ancient and modern religions, the ram is a picture of strength, drive, energy and power. From the Phoenicians to the Babylonians and to the Greeks, the ram head symbolizes authority. In the Old Testament, it was a ram that was sacrificed instead of Isaac on Mount Moriah. Today, a ram’s horn is often made into the shofar. The ram not only creates but redeems.

Back at the fountain, the puddle of water in my hand represents another force symbolized by the ram. Carneros is Spanish for ram, the region of Napa and Sonoma that was once the pasture for General Mariano Vallejo’s flocks. The golden hills are now prime vineyards of pinot noir and chardonnay, but the rams are still here and they’re not going anywhere. My dress is soaked with their spit as I continue my way up the steps to the chateau. I can’t help continue to contemplate the relationship of rams to sparkling wine, whispering the verb as I feel the bubbles on my palate.

Tyler Oaks earned her Bachelor of Arts in Spanish from California State University, Stanislaus and her Master of Arts in Spanish from California State University, Sacramento. Tyler lives in California's Napa Valley with her husband and twin daughters. Tyler is presently at work on her next novel.