Coming back home from Salt Lake City one summer day, I was passing through Evanston, Wyoming when I noticed a large praire with bison roaming. I made a pitstop hoping to get at least one good shot.

So, here I was, raising my camera and sticking the lens through the barbed-wire fence (yes, I was safe from petting the fluffy cow!).

He caught the light. His woolly forehead, that magnificent, ridiculous, gravity-defying forehead, styled by Wyoming’s infamous prairie wind with a grudge, it burned so bright! He was somehow both majestic and deeply unbothered. Indifferent, really.

As I patiently waited for the right moment, he finally turned his massive head as if to say hi and to welcome me with horns wide open. I took my shot and quickly retreated.

He was docile. He did not care. His kind has outlasted entire civilizations. Why should he?