Leaving Denver behind we headed out to Devil’s Tower; a 7 hour ride on back roads. We quickly got out into the open prairie land cruising along, absorbing the landscape before us. Straight road ahead, with fences, telephone poles, abandoned barns, cornfields, cattle and occasionally horses. Coal trains pulled by engines with fifty or more containers behind them,would rumble by, usually close to town. It brought back memories of sitting at the railroad crossing in Gettysburg waiting impatiently for the train to pass by. No matter that the train passed by the same station where Lincoln descended to give his famous address, this was not even a thought in my teenage mind. How many times the whistle would blow, the lights would flash, and we would dash across in my trusty ‘59 Fiat 1100, exhaling a sigh of relief not to have gotten stuck in the middle of the track.

I diverged from our road trip north. What was interesting was the diversity of the terrain. We would be driving along prairies, not a tree in sight, and suddenly a row of Cottonwoods would appear, snaking their way across the landscape following an old stream that must still provide water for them. Then the next minute they were gone. Where the Cottonwoods followed a curving path, the snow fences stood straight and proud along stretches of highway. Whizzing past us were side roads with cattle crossing grates and beautiful iron signs forged with the name of the ranch. Finally, in the distance I saw one of the signs with horses grazing nearby, so we pulled off the road and began to shoot pictures. What fun this turned out to be.

We crossed the cattle crossing to get closer to the horses and after a few snapshots, the horses decided to find out what we were doing. Out of the five horses, there was one grey one who was definitely the most curious. He started toward us while we were photographing them, came right up to me, blowing a snuffle into my face. Now I am not a lover of horses, but how could I resist the gentle breeze of his breath and the soft velvety feel of his nose. His other companions came toward us and investigated us, then turned back to eating grass. Meanwhile Mr. Grey continued to insist on being petted. If we stepped away to get a picture of them, his nose was at the end of my lens. We finally crossed back over the cattle crossing to take a few distant shots, Mr. Grey tried to follow, but stopped at the crossing,with a forlorn look he stood and stared at us. We said our good-byes and climbed back in the van.

Continuing on our trip we stopped to photograph windmills standing solitarily in the middle of acres of prairie, cattle grazing, farm equipment cutting and thrashing the corn, beautiful scenery, and one bad ass motorcycle guy.

I could not believe the beauty of the landscape here in this northern corner of Wyoming. It is hard to put into words what you experience as you drive along. There are so many quick impressions, like the dash of a watercolor paint brush adding a hint of deep color to a painting. One minute you are looking at brown prairie grasses, next adobe red rocks cutting knife-like crevices through the land. Farther along the road climbs, revealing hillsides dotted with pines, then just as quickly we are back onto flat highways with hills in the distance. Finally, Devil’s Tower growing dark in the last rays of sunset. Minutes go by, the sun slips to the edge of the landscape just as we pull into your campground to a sign assuring us, all is right with the world, because Jesus loves me and Trump is protecting me with the Second amendment. Too late to move on, I must remind myself to keep an open mind, do not judge, have faith we are all good people and we all care for the same thing. I hear in my mind the phrase of the song:” This land belongs to you and me.”

And how lucky are we to live in this incredible land, to experience all of its beauty. What a privilege I am being given to be able to see all of the sunsets and sunrises.

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