The Literary Drover No. 477

When asked why I live where I do instead of Los Angeles or New York or even Miami, I reply: Because this is where reality begins and ends.

There is nothing more real than stopping by a friend’s house to ask if he would be available for a hike to photograph wild flowers and finding out he has been up for three days straight, tending to a pregnant cow as she struggles to bring a new life into the world.

There is nothing more real than sitting quietly on a hillside and realizing that I have company and then learning the company is a mountain lion, which only has eyes for a herd of elk across the meadow below.

There is nothing more real than a sunrise or a sunset and knowing between each I made a difference with writing.

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