Days are warm and sunny; nights are cool and refreshing.
The windmill groans as it slowly turns, pumping cold, fresh water for the cattle to drink.
The rancher and the cows are standing on the hillside, watching the shiny black calves, with tails in the air, run across the pastures rolling hills.
As I watch the cows greet their calves with low moos and gentle licks, the sound of the creaking windmill delivering the precious water of life to us, reminds me, once more, that I truly am a rancher with a writer inside.
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