It seems they are everywhere… some near, some far. And once your tires rumble across the staggered metal bars it’s almost as if you enter into a totally different world, and even sometimes a state of mind. Some are as near as the rural county roads not far from the house. I even see the grass feeding creatures they contain, daily as I merge onto E-470.
But the cattle guards that seem the most intriguing to me are the ones that take you into seemingly far away lands from the everyday life in the city. Wide open fields of the eastern plains, where fourteen thousand foot peaks are barely within sight, trains rumbling through the countryside as the tall grass sways in the wind. Dried up ancient bodies of water, the massive round boulders and eroded banks a
testament to the waters that once whisked through the valleys. And majestic pyramids of granite, only slightly eroded by time, adorned with wildflowers of every color and slowly melting glaciers. All are in sight once you cross the cattle guard and yet each so drastic from one another.
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