The bison were serene. They were made for this world and don’t imagine otherwise.
Winter will pass as surely as summer, and while it is here the daily work of eating goes on as it always has. The pleasure of having been equal to the task increases with its difficulty, at the beginning. We know we can have enough, even of pleasure.
A couple of wolves sat beyond the edge of the herd. Waiting. I wanted photographs of them in action, so I also sat waiting. One of the wolves lay down, stretched out, and went to sleep. This made me restless, and I moved on, looking for something else.