Where country starts is ” when you start to see cows. ”

We are not in prime cow country in this high desert  Arizona.There is better grazing in Texas and, even better, in Uruguay.The grass around us is sparse amid cactus, junipers, washes, arroyos, ditches, and dirt roads. This land we are driving through to reach Chip’s little piece of paradise is open range and these cows have the right of way over automobiles and humans.

These two critters give me the evil eye when I stop to take their portrait, recalcitrant models.

If they could talk they would be asking me what I was doing here, how long I intended to stay, and what my real intentions are.

They grow tired of me quickly and peacefully amble off.

When you get out of the city you see more clearly the things you are getting away from and the things you left behind that you miss.

When I start trying to make friends with cows, who don’t even have watches to give me the time of day, I figure I have already been out here too long.

I love the country but miss my city.

Living a simple life, after all is said and done, isn’t very simple for lots of us.

 

 

 

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