I’ve been asked as to why on ‘God’s green earth’ would I live in such a desolate, boring place. Why would I fight blizzards, gale force winds, blistering heat, and threats (and promises kept) of hail most summer nights?
Why would I fight mosquitos the size of small cars, rattlesnakes, biting flies that think I am either a deer or a bovine, ticks and fleas? It’s been noted that I wear just as much protective clothing in the summer to keep me safe as I do in the winter to keep me warm.
And with a sly smile, I look to the sky.
This.
This is why.
Almost every evening in this place we call home, the sky blesses us with a palette of color that no artist can replicate. Each tonal shift of color and each wisp of atmospheric texture blends together to create an almost musical composition that each one of us hears differently. The photos may look the same but the song of the sky is a gift of a lullaby as individual as we are.
The pains and turmoil that Mother Earth greets us Wyomingites with every single day sometimes feel so intimidating. Hurdles and obstacles that tend to make us stronger, braver and definitely, wiser. But it’s this sky, this Heaven, which reminds us how tiny those problems truly are.
And that this sky will go on.
Regardless.
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