I swore to myself I'd never again stand behind a commercial mo'om pitcher camera. But I am weak, and at the request of the ranch foreman I have been doing some filming of his critters lately. He wanted some footage of moving them between "pastures." The word pasture does not really convey the meaning of what these grazing grounds are. This morning they were moving them out of a rough, canyon-smeared pasture that is five miles long, into one that is about fifteen miles long. Poor folks only have about 90,000 acres so they have to make do.
This was my third session and it was the most up-front-and-personal yet. They had split the herd into two 2,500-head components and today's shoot was the last of these two. That many buffalo, moving at speed, up close, cause an unbelievable amount of dust. I joked that I was going to have to put the camera in the dishwasher tonight. Maybe along with myself.