Softly creeping down the old wooden steps to the lobby for morning coffee, I catch a glimpse of brilliant light from a yonder window. I step outside to a wind that chills me to the bone, but my breath gasps from the sight  before me….

Gathering only the barest of essentials ; camera, jacket, and thermos, I hop into the car and quickly drive out to the paddocks. Today I will sit in the open prairie of Alberta and watch the sun rise with the buffalo.


Long before the White Man came to North America, the buffalo roamed this land by the hundreds of thousands. The Native American Indian worshipped the great animal, as it provided both warmth and food for it’s people.
Hunted by the White Man to near extinction, one can no longer see buffalo in great numbers migrating across the plains. They are now in small numbers on protected lands.
I sit on the paddock as the small herd grazes in the morning light, and feel eons of time flash before me.

Oh great Tatonka, I hope you will one day roam again in great numbers.

Wench, bring my ale, what say you?

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