An Encounter
Started the day yesterday with a short walk along the South Rim of the Rio Grande Gorge just outside Taos. Standing at the starting line, it looked mostly flat. We could see a long way into the distance. But once feet hit the ground, we became more familiar with the terrain, because feet measure terrain in smaller bites. There were plenty of ups and downs, most leading, as one would expect, to the edge of the gorge where we would stand and marvel, over and over, at the majesty of nature.
About halfway through the walk, as we cut along a footpath, slightly away from the main trail, we heard the sound of hooves. A heavy tread. I looked back to see two Big Horn sheep standing on the crest of a knoll, looking down at us as we got ready to cross a small draw and head up the other side. We were close, maybe too close. The sheep nearest didn’t twitch. Didn’t move a muscle. It just stood there, wide abeam, heavy horns, looking down at us, as if to say, if you want to make something of this, I’m ready.
I wanted to make nothing of it. I’d seen bighorns at a distance, but never this close, and all I could think of was how it would look if that big guy reared up, lowered his head, and made his move. I’d have been at the bottom of the gorge in no time. I had no desire to be a Yellowstone tourist. So, we lowered our eyes, turned our heads, and kept walking slowly away. The sheep watched us at every step. As we finally made it to the other side of the draw, we looked back. The two sheep had laid down, but they still watched and we watched until we both became simply part of the landscape, no threat to either. It was nice to have met them.