You know, I guess some people would call it lonely out here,...maybe they're right.
There's no convenience stores, no night clubs. There's no skyscrapers, no bright lights.
If you miss the traffic and the smog, this is definitely not the place for you.
We don't have a corner drug store or a supermarket across the street.
Fact is, we don't even have a street, but there's a whole lot of blue sky,
and miles and miles of beautiful nothing. We sure do love it that way.
All things considered, I guess you could say
that ranching these days makes about as much sense
as picking a fight with a rutting grizzly bear,
or betting your hard earned money that a politician
is going to tell the truth.,
the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.
Ranchers fight weather, beef prices and ridiculous import quotas
on a daily basis, not to mention predators and dry water holes.
They get up before the sun does and spend their days in heat,
cold, snow, wind, and downright aggrivation.
They spend their nights pouring over accounts
that reflect an ever dwindling profit margin,
and hoping they can coax just one more year
out of that old pick-up truck.
It's a genteel insanity and gamble at best.
So why would a man spend his life in the middle of nowhere
with the odds so heavily against him?
Don't ask that question unless you've heard the whistle
of the houlihans in the predawn stillness, or topped a hill
at first light and seen the dew diamonds
sparkling in a thousand acre pasture.
Don't quesstion it unless you've smelled the sage stomped
out of the horses' hooves, or tasted old Cookie's coffee.
Don't judge until you've scratched your chaps on catclaw
or watched calves frolicking and kicking up their heels
under God's blue, blue western sky.
And if you haven't seen that full silver moon shining down
out of the sky so clear that each star is as bright as a prize emerald,
don't you even say a word.
How could you know, if you've never heard the squeak
of saddle leather or dallied off a runaway?
Come sit at my fire. Listen to the old men talk about the days of
the big outfits, when the range was wild and unfenced.
Come and ride my gentlest horses and watch the boys
sitting tall and proud in their saddles, proud to be a cowboy.
Come and sleep under my stars, drink from my moutain streams.
Come and touch my world.
And then maybe, just maybe you'll understand why there's
no other way of life for us.....win, lose, or draw.
