The Americans

I have a big brother, Joe. He is one of the steadiest men I know. A real man. He is so steady I think sometimes the entire universe overlooks him standing quietly in plain view. The universe overlooks most great men. Because their greatness is a slow, solid thing. When you stand on a thing you tend to forget it is holding you up.

Wolcott, Colorado. I saw this scene of horses and the harsh environment and I thought of Joe. I thought of my stepfather, Randy. I thought of the men I have known who go out into the world and do the work of protecting and feeding and keeping. Sometimes these men do the work of dying–for us (I was riding with U.S. Special Forces soldiers. We were trying to heal ourselves from our goings out and what we have brought back). I thought… this is America and these men, these men are the truest Americans. And I thought… maybe now I am one too.