Fall days are meant for lying in the sun, daydreaming under the blue sky and golden, glowing leaves. Brilliant bits of color highlight the seasonal changes. Solid summer greens hold on.
I took this photo lying in the pine needles under an oak tree. I was mesmerized and my agenda was forgotten.
What the world needs now.
Peace doesn’t seem to be working. I guess this would be my next vote.
I took this photo, it’s what the world needs now.
The bison roundup
Each fall in the Mission Valley of Montana there is a bison roundup. The animals are brought off the range for inoculations, branding, and chipping. It’s an intense time of riders, wild bison, curious spectators, modern technology, and ancient memories.
One of the first wildlife refuges in the country, the National Bison Range was founded as a place to prevent the extinction of an animal that once numbered in the tens of millions and ranged across the entire US and Canada. The near eradication of this species in the late 1800s is a tangle of politics, racism, westward expansion, genocide, Manifest Destiny, and greed.
The bison that remain in the contiguous US today are remnants of a landscape, an animal, and the people that once relied upon them for life. Yet they are no more than cattle. They may be wild but they do not roam the prairies, for the prairies no longer exist. They may be sacred but they are no longer an icon, for the great nations they sustained are no more.
I took this photo in the heat of the roundup on a cold October day. Seeing it now, I empathize with the bison being herded into a future they cannot see and do not recognize. Forced from the endless days of grass and open sky to the fences and pens of the modern world. We are no more than cattle.
Party mixer: beer and ammo, both on sale.
There are some states where it is still illegal to sell alcohol on Sundays. In other states, you can’t sell ammunition in grocery stores. And then, there is South Dakota.
I took this photo in recognition of our inalienable rights. Beer and ammo. What more do you need on a Sunday afternoon?
The Imnaha River Valley, Oregon
It’s not you. It’s me. Honest.
There are places in the world that are still spaces. Sparsely populated, difficult to get to, sometimes dangerous, always rewarding.
I took this photo of a space that I hope never becomes a place.