As the sun began to cast its golden beauty on everything around me, my vision became blurred. It was the longest day of the year but I was not ready for it be over. .
.
I wiped my eyes and smiled. A mix of emotions I have felt many times but always without warning. I squeezed my dog tightly and scanned the landscape like a camera taking a panorama.
. .
Closing my eyes, I made sure my mind had recorded the photograph in its entirety. Now, I allowed my other senses to do the work.
.
.
The breeze on my face. The quiet that was only broken by the sound of a mother cow calling to her calf in the valley. The smell of campfires and dirt.
.
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I wanted to hold that moment forever because this was the currency of my soul. I opened my eyes as the sun said its last goodbye. .
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The gilded landscape reminded me that this is the only type of rich I ever want to be. .
.
This is Jicarilla Apache, Cheyenne, Núu-agha-tʉvʉ-pʉ̱ (Ute) land. . .
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