I always have considered Oklahoma to be where the true cowboys are from. I am thinking of the tight-jeans cute butt big hat kind who participate in rodeos. I know the other western states, and some of the eastern ones, and Canada of course contribute some, but Oklahoma cowboys seem to me the quintessential cowboys.

It's so pretty here with the trees and green veneer of grass over red, red soil. The rivers are bright terra-cotta red, red sandstone pokes out from between the grass in the yard and the dogs have red mud on their paws.

My home in Colorado is pretty and peaceful but I get the same feeling out here in the middle of Oklahoma, 20 miles from town with the tree frogs calling, and the fireflies look like falling stars out in the woods. It teaches me that no one place is the best, there are many wonderful locations to find yourself enjoying the day and the company of good friends.

There are midnight thunderstorms brewing, and I'll enjoy falling asleep to the distant rumble with maybe the sound of rain on the roof, and hope it won't turn into tornadoes while we sleep.