Riding West At Dusk

I know the dust of these plains like I know my first name. Every rock, pond and tree upon it. I have rode on these lands for as long as I can remember. From the day I could ride a saddle. My father thought me, and so did his father before him, going back many generations. I breathe in the air as I ride my horse now. The horse galloping hard and throwing up a well of dust in it's wake. My eldest son Jeff rides with me. He rides on the eastern flank. I have always ridden west. We ride till our asses are sore and dust cakes our brows. To own a ranch is no small thing, but at least it's good, honest work. After all, as my father liked to say, if you ain't working hard, then you ain't working Godly.

Genesis 3:16-19:
To Adam he said, "Because you listened to your wife and ate fruit from the tree about which I commanded you, 'You must not eat from it,'
Cursed is the ground because of you; Through painful toil you will eat food from it, all the days of your life. It will produce thorns and thistles for you, and you will eat the plants of the field. By the sweat of your brow, you will eat your food, until you return to the ground. Since from it you were taken; for dust you are, and to dust you will return."

I think of this passage often. I sometimes imagine what it must have been like for Adam, to get his first farm going, as the sun and the earth did what they always did. Especially in those days when everything was new and they were still tryna figure out how things worked. I reckon that the wife probably threw a hissy fit every now and again, stumping and heaving as he labored in the dirt and in the heat.
My wife, Maddy could also be like that, liable to throw up a storm, being all uptee and stuff, for no reason. I chuckled and slowly shaked my head. Of course there was a reason, but you ain't gonna hear me admit that, especially not to her. Hell, sometimes it was hard not to admit it to myself. But now it was all too plain and glaring to ignore.
The ranch been in a bad way these past odd couple of years. The cattle's been getting all sickly, the plains are failing and the greedy, hot shot meat parkers keep taking and taking till they ain't nothing left. We live on a 4000 acre land, and to some that might seem like more than enough, but its barely enough to scrape by. All that land, that if you stood smack-dab in the middle, you could see the sun rise and fall on horizons on all four cardinal points, if it could. All that space, that if you screamed, the echoes would go on for miles.
Sometimes, I reckon that this gotta be a test from God. That's the only way I can explain it. Cause I have been a proper ol' Christian, been saying my prayers and staying away from sin as much as I can. Still, everything's been going so wrong. So very wrong. Got no other way to rationalize it, except to think that maybe, God's testing me like Job, seeing if am still loyal or not.
"I aint gonna fail you lord" I mutter into my pillow as I go to bed.
"I ain't gonna fail you lord" I whisper in to my palms when I wake up.
I ain't gonna fail you lord!
Today, like every other day, I am riding the plains with my son, keeping the herd in order. The way he commands that saddle, like some cowboy outa some story of the distant wild west. I remember when I first tried to teach him. How he'd thrown a hissy fit each time, and sat as stiff as a sack of wheat, whenever he rode the saddle. Now look at him. That was my son riding down the cattle and using his lasso like a true cowboy should. One day his gone inherit this land much like my father gave it to me. Problem is, the earth's been tryna throw me off this land, the world too, and all the fucking sumbiches besides, and I'd be damned if I let that happen.
Not on my watch, no sir!
By day's end, I let my son lead the cattle back to the barn. We still did things the old way, you see, for the old ways were the best ways. These days, all these other fancy ranches been out here getting all these fancy equipment and vaccines from the government. Tractors, fertilizer and the likes, pumping the blood of our animals full with all kinds of foulness. But not me, no sir. I reckon that it even makes the meat taste bad if you think about it. Besides, the old ways have gotten my family this far, and best believe that am gone stick with what I know.
I learned along time ago not to trust the government, much so now with all that talk of all the strangeness that's been going on in town lately. Folks been going missing, people seeing things that human eyes ain't got know business seeing. Folks around these parts say that its probably the government experimenting on people, others say its probably aliens. My best bet is that its probably the government, cause ain't no way in hell that aliens are out here disappearing full grown people. Ain't no way there are aliens, period. Ain't no way in hell!
I waited a while, watching as my son drove the cattle's back to the barn. I watched him as he rode. I waited till he became nothing but a little black dot in the distance. Then I gently tugged on the reins and went west. The winds tugged at me as I rode. The sun was about to set, and so it made the world beautiful with its golden hue, as if it were giving a final parting gift to us. Like a man adorns his bride with treasures. It was a nice time to ride. It was a nice time to forget.
I rode west for what felt like an age. Long enough for the sun to leave and take all it's golden light with it. Long enough for the stars to begin to shine bright in the sky. Then I came down from my saddle and took a long drag of some good o'l whiskey. Liquid fire for the cold. The landscape was so beautiful. I wondered how something that was so beautiful could be so gosh dang lethal. There were a thousand ways to die in the wild west.
It was as I was admiring God's beautiful earth that I first heard it. This incessant humming sound that seemed to grow louder with every passing second. It sounded like everything yet, it sounded like nothing I had ever heard. A cacophony so loud, it felt like my ear drums would give out, the vibrations shaking me to the very bone.
Then the lights came; blinding, white and dazzling, shinning right down on me. In that moment, my first instinct was to be very afraid. Yet, for some reason I instead thought of God. I thought of a passage in the bible.
Luke 2:9-10
"And an angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were filled with great fear. And the angel said to them, 'Fear not, for behold, I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people.'"
Immediately, a sense of calm descended upon me. This was obviously an angel of the lord, for did they not say in the bible that men are moved to fear in the presence of the lord's messengers? Tears of joy fell from my eyes. God had finally heard me and sent an angel to save my ranch from going under.
I spread my arms to welcome the blessings of God's light. Then, for some reason, I began to feel lighter. Then levitate, my feet leaving the ground as I floated towards this big bright circle of light in the sky.I know the dust of this plains like I know my first name. Every rock, pond and tree upon it. I have rode on these lands for as long as I can remember. From the day I could ride a saddle. My father thought me, and so did his father before him, going back many generations. I breathe in the air as I ride my horse now. The horse galloping hard and throwing up a well of dust in its wake. My eldest son Jeff rides with me. He rides on the eastern flank. I have always ridden west. We ride till our asses are sore and dust cakes our brows. To own a ranch is no small thing but at least it's good, honest work. After all, as my father liked to say, if you ain't working hard, then you ain't working Godly.