The morning came to me in fragments.
The tell tale dust rising above the tall sagebrush was a simple clue that cows were walking through it.
Brown Horse stepped on crusted dried mud, or crispy and crunchy sagebrush, or a spray of fine dust sifted at every hoof print, depending on our location.
Birdsong welcomed the sunrise, familiar and unrecognizable chits and whirs, tweets and trills.
Dally’s panting was background to all other sounds…
Sagebrush, dust, cockleburs, horse sweat. Welcome aromas compared to the dead bull whose reeking scent made Brown Horse skittish and alert.
The fttttt! of a horse tail assaulting mosquitoes and biting flies…
Squeak, squeal, squitch is saddle leather talking harmonized by the jingle of breastcollar fasteners.
A flash, no two!, of brilliant yellow as a goldfinch flits into the bushes.
My left shoulder warms in the sunrise but my right remains cool and shadowed, for a bit.
Tenor “mehhhhhhh” rings out, answered by momma’s bovine bass, “MEHHHHHH”. A pair is reunited.
They’re ready for the climb up the hill at daylight.
Fragments of my day…