Blue Wyoming

Today I’m feeling blue for two horses; for a couple I know who live together and have agreed never to talk about politics again; and for a man who has to attend a funeral despite disliking funerals, having made a vow never to attend another funeral in his life, not even his own.

The horses look so unhappy, standing out in the open in the corral up above my cabin on their own four feet in the cold weather, each having to watch their breath stream out of their nostrils into the frigid air and then vanish forever. No one approaches these beautiful horses with a red apple, no one saddles them up and takes them for a ride, no one says, “hi, how you doin?” Day after day, night after night, these two horses are the loneliest creatures in the world, lonelier than the stars in the sky.

 The couple I know disagree so strongly about politics they can no longer talk about it: one’s a real Republican and one’s a reformed Republican in the Trumpian mode. The real Republican longs for the days when Republicans were reasonable, thoughtful men and women, the majority of whom even seemed interested in doing the right thing. The reformed Republican has his eyes only on what he believes is the prize—less and less government, more and more unfettered mineral exploration and extraction, the holy grail of states rights, and the stolen election..

The funeral is at 1 pm. The man who’s vowed never to attend another funeral in his life, not even his own, will be there wearing a dark suit with a white shirt and red tie, a reformed Republican.

Sunset in upstate Wyoming, 38 degrees, snow on the horizon.