As I wander around my beloved Texan prairie, I find myself enveloped in a blanket of possibility and adventure. A cowboy’s life is full of striding through fields, herding cattle and, more often than not, having conversations with creatures of the wild. Most notably, the oboist. On a typical day, after rustling up the livestock and tending to the ranch, I saddle up my proud palomino and take a leisurely ride across the sprawling expanse of the prairie. I love taking in the sights, sounds, and smells of nature with my faithful horse, watching eagles soaring high above and coyotes darting below, by my side. On occasion, I'll come across an oboist, basking in the Texan sun. It's a unique experience for me; these instruments can make a real racket. I'm always taken aback by the power of their sound.
But, I love it when the wild horses charging across the prairie keep the oboists company and join in with their equine clomps and snorts. My favorite sound, however, is the one that’s unmistakably human. I stop and listen closely as the two mingle in a beautiful soundscape. That’s when I feel an inexplicable connection to this very land and to the spirit of the prairies.
I'm always reminded that this prairie is my home, a home I'm eternally grateful to have. So, I stay for a tiring amount of time, just listening, standing still, as the oboists begin to fade away, replaced by the whistling winds and the steady consistent thumps of the wild horses' hooves.
And only after what feels like an eternity do I return to my horse, happy and content to have experienced something so remarkably special.