The universe must have known that I would need a pick-me-up this Christmas so it sent me the greatest gift I could possibly think of: an up-close encounter with a solitary big horn sheep with not another soul around to spoil the moment.

I was driving through the Gallatin Canyon to deliver some home made apple pie to my sister Mollie.  It was mid-morning and there was a bluebird sky beckoning me to the ski hill.  Out in front of my car about 50 meters this big horn sheep frolicked over the guard rail and onto the road.  There was no slamming on the brakes required.  I eased to a stop, feeling guilty for pandering to my inner tourist.  I was about halfway through the canyon, which is not the usual spot the big horn like to gather in numbers (some people, mainly the lawdogs and everyone else for that matter, believe they are baited to their usual location by overeager wildlife photographers).  This lone sheep was marching to its own drum on Christmas morning.  After ensuring that no other cars were coming in either direction, I rolled down my window and had a nice long moment (a few minutes) to enjoy the scene.  Just as a truck was rounding the corner about a half mile away, the sheep frolicked off without any sense of urgency.  And that was that.

A Jerry Chrisman to all.