Winter Afternoon With the Herd

There’s a certain kind of quiet that only happens in a Wyoming winter. The kind where the sky glows pale gold, the frost clings to the tall grass, and the Big Horn foothills stretch out like an old friend waking slowly. These past few days, as we checked pastures and counted noses, we found ourselves stopping more often than usual—because the view was simply too good not to savor.

A Pasture Painted in Winter Light

The snow is light right now, just a dusting across the hills, but it has a way of sharpening everything: the line of the ridge, the curve of the creek bed, the silhouettes of horses grazing through the frozen grass.

Winter on the ranch isn’t flashy. It’s subtle. It’s honest. And it’s beautiful in a way that reminds us why we do this work.

The Rhythm of the Herd

Even in colder months, the animals move in their own steady rhythm. They know the land better than we ever will—where the wind breaks, where the creek stays open longest, where the first light hits warmest.

Our horses especially are in their element this time of year. They bunch together, wander, circle back, graze, pause… always with an eye toward the next patch of grass or the next stretch of sun.

This is the heartbeat of Big Horn Mountain Farms. Animals that move freely, calmly, and instinctively on land that sets the tone for everything we raise here.

Winter Reminds Us Why Stewardship Matters

Raising animals the right way isn’t only about spring pastures and summer grazing. It’s about all seasons—the quiet ones, the cold ones, the windblown ones.

• Healthy animals don’t just look good; they carry themselves with ease.

• Wide pastures and rotational grazing give them space to thrive.

• Strong horses and cattle are built from movement, forage, and the changing

  seasons—not shortcuts.

Winter strips everything down to the essentials. And those essentials matter.

A Moment of Stillness Before the Busy Season

Soon enough, we’ll be deep into calving, pasture rotations, summer beef availability, and the organized chaos that comes with running a working ranch. But right now, there’s something grounding about these early winter mornings—the hush, the cold, the sky so open it feels endless.

We’re grateful you get to see a little of what we see.

These photos weren’t staged. They weren’t planned. They’re simply life on the ranch, caught in that fleeting window when the land speaks softly, and all you can do is listen.