Since mid-June, an undulation of spirited cowgirls, always aglow, on and on they shine like poppies left quietly to grow in a field lit of morning sun. Their spark never to eclipse, for they all fend for one another and see to it that any experience only makes them wiser and stronger. Dauntless, even by the seasonal elements: the early rains soaked them, the fierce mid-summer sun singed them, the wind whispered to them. Then one late August afternoon, their eyes glimmered against the early evening beams, a stunning, thrilling surprise of a few more beauties blossoming in their new-found knowledge—I have no doubt that these cowgirls would make it on their own. Some on a saddle before their feet hit the ground running, others of their own choosing drawn to riding like a warrior princess bareback on her trusty steed. Thin on the ground, their capacity not to be played down, au contraire the promise in a few…thank God almighty the promise of bravehearts like these sweethearts.
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