Coyote in the early darkness loping around in the shadows. Perhaps he got lost on our winding neighborhood streets and couldn’t find his way back to the golf course. Stops and turns as if to say, “Hey, you looking at me?”
Dogs in their fenced yards barking like crazy. “You get out of here coyote, or me and my buddies are going to whip your butt!”. Or maybe “Mom, let me in for cripesake! There’s a freaking coyote out here!!”
Pronghorn antelope blending in with the pale dry landscape.
Big wide open vistas.
Purple mountain majesties rising in the distance.
Forests of windmills on the ridge.
Miles and miles of miles and miles.
And the sillouette of a black bison high on a hill at the Colorado border.
Welcome to Wyoming.
The American Story has long been written by immigrants.
On July 4, 1776…
“Fifty-six founders put their names on a piece of paper. Up until that moment, none of them were American. Even those who had spent their entire lives in one of the thirteen colonies had grown up in another country.” —Cecilia Muñoz, White House Domestic Policy Council
This quote has me thinking about the immigrants who sacrificed and risked so much to create this new country. Continue reading
People watching is great on Bourbon Street. We saw the walker couple all over town. They may not have been fast but they were getting around!
My Miscellania 