It was near Fossil, OR, that we spent a few days on a ranch. One afternoon, just as the day was turning to dusk we rode up into the hills. There were three of us: a handsome wrangler named Colton, John, and myself.
Actually, there's enough drama in the landscape that no movie could hope to match.
Late afternoon sun turned the world golden.
When the moon began to rise, we knew it was time to head down.
Back to the ranch with its wooden buildings and neatly stacked piles of hay.
In the waning light John brought out his guitar and played to a rapt audience.
Finally it grew dark and the huge moon rose in all her glory. It was a great day.