I’ve been hanging around for a decade or two.
I’ve had some good luck,
But I’ll bet I’m like you.

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Freelance Writer
Paul Marchant is a rancher and freelance writer in southern Idaho. Follow Paul Marchant on X (@pm...

The good times drop in for a short little stay
To get reacquainted,
But they’ll vanish away!

Everyone gets it,
It’s not just us two.
Hard times will hit both the many and few.

The South’s not so different from the West or the North
And it might rain in Coon Rapids
on July the Fourth.

But a soggy parade is a small price to pay
If the corn’s had no drink
since the last week in May.


The high country’s pretty
with her snowy-capped peaks,
But the wind and the mud hide her beauty for weeks.

If your cows get their groceries from a bale of hay,
It’s a life of hard labor
From November till May.

If you’re punchin’ in the Plains – the High or the Great –
The rains surely come,
But they’re early or late.

It seldom is perfect and rarely just right,
It’s too cold or too hot
When the margins are tight.

If your bliss depends on a horse or a cow,
The good times will roll,
But just not right now.

The best things are fleeting, not common, but rare.
You just have to look,
But I promise, they’re there.

The first calf of the year on a bright, brisk spring day,
The auctioneer’s chant
Or the smell of cut hay.

A fresh set of irons on your favorite old roan,
Or a saddlebag sandwich as you’re headed for home.

Your daughter’s last prom date
or a packed high school gym
When your son grabs a rebound to seal the win.

Loading up in the trailer before it gets light,
Riding back to the trailer
in the dark of the night.

The spark from a horseshoe when it smacks on a stone,
The silence of snowfall,
The warm fires of home.

A distant call of a coyote,
The smile from your dog,
The sun breaking through a dark winter fog.

When the calves mother up when you get through the gate,
Or arriving at church only 10 minutes late.

The last chug from the diesel at the end of the day,
Or fair time in August and turnout in May.

The good life is constant,
But you don’t always know it.
The struggles of living just won’t always show it.

It’s the moments that make life so we love it
But the hard times are endless,
There’s no one above it.

So take note of the goodness that’s sprinkled around;
You can’t see ahead if you only look down.

The way that life goes – by nature, it’s tough.
The dark stretches are long,
And they’ll likely be rough.

But the moments that light the path will shine bright.
They’re brighter than even the deepest dark night.

So lift up your gaze, look forward, instead.
The darkness will fade,
You’ll find light up ahead.