husker
Like SWAMP at RB, it is a low post site.
There is a young cowboy
Who lives on the range.
His horse and his cattle
Are his only companions...
He works in the saddle
And he sleeps in the canyons...
Waiting for summer his pastures to change.
And as the moon rises he sits by his fire,
Thinking about women and glasses of beer...
Closing his eyes as the dogies retire,
He sings out a song which is soft but is clear...
As if maybe someone could hear...ummhmmm
Campfires, hunting, fishing activities in the evenings are a quiet time, unencumbered usually by others presence and when so, of like mind. A quiet reflective, contemplative time. A singular existence in time.
Talk becomes superfluous.
So, good night moonlight ladies...
Rock-a-bye sweet baby James
Deep greens and blues are the colors I choose...
Won't you let me go down in my dreams?
And rock-a-bye sweet baby James.
ola