This was written years ago but it was just so beautiful to me.
Today I sat on a lonely hill in southern Montana, overlooking a broad valley.
Behind this valley were high and rocky mountains. They were quite beautiful. The sky stretched far and wide above me. I understand why they call this “Big Sky Country.”
As the sun set, the colors on the mountainside changed to varying shades of red, and the wind, which never ceased to blow at a steady pace, grew cooler, and had a bit of a bite, even this early in the season.
In the valley below me were cattle, quietly grazing.
To my left stood a dozen black specks, heads down, as they grazed contentedly on the plentiful grasses.
To my right stood one lone bull. He was behind a fence that divided him from the others, but he stood right at its edge.
This bull’s head never went down. He didn’t graze like the…
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