Memory Blankets

Today ends the ranch hand's 40th season of harvesting venison.

There is meat in the freezer and horns on the mantle as a tangible reminder of the experience. More importantly, there are a comfortable blanket of memories remaining.

The ranch hand has been privileged to experience the soft black velvet of predawn, the joyous call of Rio Grande turkeys arising from slumber, and majestic aerobatics of a resident hawk.

God has afforded the visual pleasure of His warming sun peeking from the east horizon, the auditory comfort of song birds anticipating the morning feast, and diligent squirrels frenetically gathering their winter harvest.

There is a true comfort in feeling as one with land which has been acquired, improved, and assimilated as a nurturing "home" in every positive sense of the word; and which also serves as a base for the privilege of "hunting".

Lord, I pray that this ole fat boy can continue to approach absolute peace, harmony, and appreciation for the blessing that we call the TIN STAR RANCH.