The Cowboy Corral

As the sun at last to the earth descends, a cowboys work draws to an end.. Trading the saddle for the warmth of the fire, time spent sharing stories before they retire... One reaches for a coffee pot which bubbles on a rock, its aroma mingles with the northern start as they continue to talk... Memories of yesterday they eagerly recall,of heroes and legends who in the saddle rode tall... the gentle voice of the guitar held tenderly in callused hands, whispers of the romance and their love of the land...

I think the good book says something like. "I will lift up my eyes unto the mountains, where comes my salvation"... You wont find any argument about that from me... It is where I truly feel I belong... I think nature and critters are two of the best treasures life has to offer... Mostly I just wander and dream, and other times I plop my caracas down in some meadow, and listen to the heart speak and jot some simple lines down, like the ones above or even dance in the evening twilight...

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