My date invited me to tag along to put a new battery on an electric fence at the Rattlesnake Pasture. Sounds romantic, doesn't it? But really: Who needs a cloth tablecloth at a restaurant when you can get the beauty of the setting sun through a canopy of century-old cottonwood trees?
As we drove over the cattle guard and into the pasture that's been part of his family heritage for more than 100 years, I asked him to watch for pretty wildflowers.
Kind of like a date to the pasture, the beauty was a little more subtle than that. We may not have seen splashes of colorful flowers dotting the pasture, but there was beauty in craggy, old hedge fence posts, which seemed to stretch endlessly toward the blue horizon. (The romance may be challenged by the reality of pesky cheat grass, with its prickly bits determined to attack my socks.)
|July 8, 2013|
|August 2012 and the dry creek bed|