|Photo courtesy of Emirates Airlines|
|Photo courtesy of The Ranger|
But the charm of the bull-hauler is all too soon behind us as we once again are herded through the long alley and out to our new home on the range. Sometimes it’s a familiar pasture where we know all the best places to feed, water and rest while we chew our cuds. Sometimes it’s to new and dangerous pastures where I go with a briefcase to places I probably should go with a shotgun. Usually, there’s way too many critters already on what little grass is out there. I mill around for a couple of days and sometimes get rimrocked in the concrete canyons of Washington, DC or bogged down in the creek crossings of Providence, RI. But never quite soon enough, I'm back on the bull- hauler and headed for the home place.
And I guarantee you my friends, despite all the joy of travel, Judy Garland said it best. There is indeed no place like home.