“Branded by the land, befriended by the wind. You may never pass this way again. But something in the wind is saying your time is now, boy. Your daddy calls you drifter; I call you cowboy.”
Prelude to ‘Riding Job’ by Brenn Hill.
Misfit, green horses and a young son that dreams of a riding job in a faraway place in eastern Big Sky country settle in this mother’s mind. Sometimes there is worry, but mostly my heart swells with pride.
My son called me up a while back to tell me that he’d found two green horses near Sacramento, and asked me if I’d keep them until he could make arrangements to haul them back to Montana. Skeptical, I grilled him with questions wondering if he’d thought this plan through in the slightest? Did I not teach him anything about horse trading? But in my corral, now stands a mustang and a young quarter horse, barely halter broke, green as all get out, awaiting their next run at life with a young man willing to give them a new chance…
And isn’t that what young life should be about? Someone that believes in you and your potential? Chasing dreams headlong into the wind?
People have asked me, “how do you feel about your son wanting to go away from home and everyone he knows, just to be a cowboy? He won’t make any money. It’s a dying way of life.”
I say, “It isn’t how I feel, because it isn’t my choice. It’s his. And I support him and believe in that, because if I don’t, how will he believe in himself?”
Just a cowboy… How can I not cheer on a young man that chooses to a live cowboy’s way of life? Sure, the work is hard, the days are long, the horses green, and the unknown vast, but if the truth were told, I’d be right there with him if I could, working a riding job.
My hope is to see his skill sets honed, to see him take pride in a job well done, to see a man that makes a colt a horse, and colt that makes a boy a man. I hope the sunrise that greets his eyes on the horizon on a frosty morning, make him grateful for the moment, and I hope he draws near to God and thanks Him for the life he’s been given, the good horse he is riding, and to keep pursuing with passion a cowboy’s way of life.
So, go be just a cowboy… do it with all of your heart. Take the best of what this life has given you, the good and the bad, and muster up a life you can be proud of. May your boots hit the floor anxious to take on a new day, may your hat stay sucked down tight when the wind blows hard, and may your horses be easy to catch first thing in the morn’. Go ride that glory trail and see the west before it’s gone… Go be just a cowboy, son. I couldn’t be more proud….