Farson, WY

This is where my mom grew up, on a cattle ranch in a town that boasts the best ice cream in America. (Debatable.)

As we rambled along unpaved roads, my mystified fiance at the wheel, my 88-year-old grandfather sitting in the passenger seat with a rifle, the sun setting against the barren horizon, I tried to view it through fresh eyes, like Ricky was seeing it.

This entry was published on July 6, 2012 at 10:58 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

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