Gold

I saw these steer grazing in the golden hour of the evening. For some reason Robert Frost's poem came to mind. Still not entirely sure what connection the ancient brain was trying to push forward into my mind. Perhaps nothing more than the transient nature of beautiful things - like the golden colors in this brief moment during sunset. Perhaps...but I think I'll keep digging.

Nothing Gold Can Stay

Nature’s first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

Robert Frost