A long time ago, back when tigers used to smoke, I lived in a small town at the base of three mountain ranges, the Persells, The Selkirks and the Rockies. My uncle Gary lived in Saskatchewan, the heart of the prairies. He hated my little town, and being a child, I did not understand his thoughts.
“You can’t see anything,” he explained to me, “the mountains are blocking the view.”
Needless to say, I thought Uncle Gary was stupid.
“You can’t see anything in Saskatchewan,” I would protest, “there is nothing to see.”
I suspect Gary always questioned my brain activity as well, though he was always kind about it.
Thia is a picture of Saskatchewan; I included the fence post so there would be something in it and a little strand of devils rope never hurts either.
Thank you, Uncle Gary!
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