It's the clanging of the trailer door as horses and a wheeler are unloaded, saddled and a final cold beverage grabbed before we get to work.
It's the "whiskt, whiskt, whiskt" of the sprinkler pipes as they sprinkle gravity delivered water across the fields that we pass along on our way through the gate.
It's the way soft prisms of light dance across horses, trailers and tent tops.
It's how the light filters through the pines and hits soft green blades of grass.
It's the shifting of the gears as I navigate the four wheeler over branches that pop and snap under the weight of tires, looking for heifers to count heads and check health.
It's the "clip clops" of the horses as the guys head the opposite way from I, both accomplishing the same tasks.
It's the silent moments.
It's the unexpected beauty found in a bubbling stream, in a group of deer who stop to look and linger before darting off, and in a new fence built just right.
It's the silent reassurance found when cattle are located - healthy and well fed.
It's the gratefulness felt as we find that all is healthy, and nothing needs the doctoring items that remain idle in the pickup.
It's the "whizzz" as a rope flies round a lone bull's neck and the time it takes to load him into a trailer in the middle of a field.
A mad, horse fighting bull did not equal easy loading for us, unfortunately, this weekend. Good thing Jesse and Clint are handy....and still had a bit of their inner "track star" left in them! That bull quite literally gave them a run for their money, but their horses and whit served them well and at the end of the day - he was loaded.
It's the heft of the trailer, loaded with that one canktanerous bull, two horses and an assortment of dogs, as we pulled out the drive with a final wave, headed for home.
It's all of these things, and more.
And it will always be a special place for us, and fabulous country to summer cattle in.