My South Dakota experience

A real cattle roundup on a real ranch in South Dakota

I was riding on a real ranch in northwest South Dakota, looking at the vast expanses of open space, and marveling at the beauty of the land. As I looked at the miles and miles of open space, it hit me. One has to be strong to live in this place. No city close by, and the "big" city of Rapid City is hours away. A person living here will have to be content with less.

I wonder how many could live in such an open area, and be content with the beauty of God's country? I wonder how many could forgo the "pleasures" of living in the city, with multiple opportunities available for distraction? I wonder how many could be content to marvel and glory at God's creation?

Perhaps that is why the Desert Abbas and Ammas went into the wilderness. They were not running away. They did not need a lot of "stuff" to live, and could enjoy the beauty of what was there over man-made pleasures. For there is beauty in rugged landscapes, if I quiet my soul enough to appreciate it.

This brought me to the fact that so much of our lives are lived in the abstract. We read about such things, but have no real-life experience of it. I have eaten beef for years, but had no clue how it was raised or what the ranchers go through to provide it to the rest of us. This was the first time I learned the source: real cowboys saddling up horses and helping one another gather cattle for branding. I saw the vast expanses of land needed to raise such cattle. I saw calves being born, and calves dying. I saw live cows, and one dead, hit by lightning. I saw the real rugged wild and met the gentle ranchers who live here. I saw reality.

And so, as I sit here listening to the sounds of traffic, I think of the wilds of South Dakota. I think of just how independent a person must be to live so far away and yet be perfectly content with life. I think of how much better it is to experience than to know in the abstract.  I think with gratitude to those ranchers who have lived in this land for generations and whom I have never thanked.