Morning views.

They probably thought I was crazy.
Who runs out in a windstorm with their hair still wet, camera in hand, snapping away?
Capturing sunlight, black hides, progress and hard work?

{And a variety of white balance moods.}

Heads turned, ears perked and slowly they started to come my way.

They're only here for a few months, and then they'll scatter to various ranches east and west, living out their purpose.

They're not our cattle but while they're here, they're the first thing I see in the mornings as I gaze out my kitchen to the east and see them lined up at the bunk.

We all go through seasons, and have different views.
But on a Saturday morning in Eastern Oregon, this was my morning view.


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