We were at the rodeo that evening, the air thick with the scent of popcorn and fresh hay, the buzz of excited chatter weaving through the crowd like a warm blanket.
The sun was just beginning to set, casting long shadows across the arena as golden rays flickered through the dusty air. It was one of those perfect summer nights where time feels both fleeting and endless all at once — a moment suspended between the excitement of the present and the promise of memories yet to be made.
Around us, families settled into their seats, children with faces painted as clowns or cowboys squealing with delight as the rodeo animals prepared for their turn in the spotlight.
The roar of the crowd would swell every few minutes, riding the highs and lows of each event — the crack of a whip, the thunder of hooves pounding the dirt, the cheers and gasps of spectators caught between awe and anxiety. It was a lively, joyous chaos, and I couldn’t help…
