I had to butt in. The conversations had been swift-changing
and lively at Tommyknockers Tavern, as Kelly and I had lunch and a couple of
beers. Amid all the retelling of San Juan Mountain life I wanted to tell of my
experiences that day.
“We were up around the Rio Grande National Forest, near the
reservoir, and saw this herd of mountain sheep.” (Actually, I said “flock” and
everyone laughed and informed me it was a “herd”.) “They were in a meadow along the road we were
on. It was a ram and several ewes.”
“More likely all rams,” said our bar companion. “At this
time of year the rams all come down but not the ewes.”
“Really? I didn’t see any horns on the others.” I was
skeptical.
“Oh, yeah. They all had horns,” Kelly said. “They were just
very short.”
“That sounds about right,” our barstool friend said. “A lot
more young ones and fewer older rams.”
It was just trivial chatter but
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