Day four started early for even me. Joe rose early to go shoot the sunrise again and shortly after he left, I got up too. It is very chilly in the mornings in ND and until the sun rises above the mountains, it feels like a Northeast’s fall morning. I sat bundled up in the front yard, with Festus, still pouting, at my feet. Rob decided to leave him that morning but only because he was taking the rental car. As I sat outside, I quietly typed away. I have gotten better about not worrying about where Joe has wandered off to, but as the morning woke up, I was surprised that he was taking so long to return. Before he returned though, we got another visitor. A cow had wandered into Fran’s yard. She owns thousands of acres, some of which she rents out to some cattle farmers but her own yard is off limits. Guarded by fence and cattle guards, the cows have apparently learned how to cross the guards that protect the driveway entrance because now more were meandering their way down the drive. Shortly after acknowledging our visitors , Festus starting running up the driveway, I knew that meant Joe had finally returned. He had been at the top of the drive for awhile but as it turns out, the one cow we spotted near the stable was only one of the many who had congregated at the main gate to the ranch. Joe had been herding them on his own from the top of the driveway and now took on the last one near the stable. Fran was so impressed by his cowboy ways and called him a natural. Joe said it was all those cowboy movies and books he has consumed over the years that made those moments of cowboying easy! That morning she prepared cowpoke pancakes and homemade sausage made in nearby Dickinson, ND (which had the likeness of Lebanon Bologna). It was amazing. Topped off with Chokecherry syrup and something Fran called Butter Syrup the pancakes were yummy, each stamped with a cowboy cookie cutter pattern in the center. We knew we needed to get a quick start that morning but there was something a little slow about the way we moved. Our time at the ranch had been so special; I know that neither one of us were forward to saying good-bye. As a special gift to us, Fran agreed to do a little performance for me. Sitting on a stool from her front yard, sporting her favorite cowboy hat, Fran recited for us a poem that she wrote, published in one of her many cowboy books, a poem that encompassed the history of North Dakota, the hard work behind the men and women who worked the land, and the beauty that surrounds all that is around. Our good bye was bitter-sweet as we looked forward to what lay ahead but sad to say goodbye to this magical place.
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