BLM Dispatch #20 - My Evening With the Stallion
We made eye contact just as the last sliver of sun had dipped below the ridge. I had been wandering through a maze of sagebrush, pointing my camera in the general direction of west and north, studying shadows and watching the light slip upwardly along Granite Mountain.
That’s when I saw him.
Across the valley floor, a few hundred feet away, was a wild mustang. He was standing there motionless, like a statue, his head hanging in a posture that made him appear to be in a state of gratitude, as if he too had been appreciating the sunset. I was startled at first, not accustomed to seeing an animal five times my size. I scanned the surroundings for others, but he was as alone as I was…
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