there was a photog there who never saw the bison this close. mostly they're of in the distance. he has a real nice nikon so i bet he got good pictures anyway. but being a this close, a few feet, is a gift. i brought my long lens and they came so close i had to step back a few times to get the whole bison. i guess it's good the the tall grass is cropped low for winter, so we can see them from hooves to horn. and see the watchers in the distance in a living tableaux. the warm light, i wanted to brush them and rub their heads. the photog had a stub for his left arm and used it to stabilize his camera. he said his name's stubby, and he got it fifty years ago in school on the rugby team. i thought he was going to tell us the story, but that was it, he was named for his left stub, and he gestured with it more than the right. it kind of reminded me a the pointers' cropped tails, how expressive they are, and maybe even more than the whole thing. he was so cheerful about the bison and his name. i think of how we might be mean as kids but also how nicknames show how we're different and make what might be a limitation into a proud feature.