I'd pictured this scene long before I ever captured it.

I came back before dawn, coffee in hand, as the first light reached the mountains. Fresh snow clung to the peaks, and the pasture below still held its warm, weathered tones. For a moment everything went still, like the land paused just long enough to be noticed.

As the light shifted, it finally came together the way I'd imagined for years.

This one's a quiet nod to the old westerns I watched with my grandfather. Open land, hard work, a slower and steadier way of life. That's the country I keep chasing, and every now and then it stands still long enough to let me catch it.