It’s 7:30 am and the sun is finally warming up a chilly September fog.

Just west of Sprague, Washington, a wide pasture is empty, except for a white pickup truck snaking its way across the dead grass. The truck stops at a random spot, a few yards away from a bleached cow skull. It must have been here for years now, bright bone against black basalt à la Georgia O’Keefe.

Three women get out of the pickup, one in denim and a cowboy hat, another in plaid, another in a sweatshirt and ballcap. They unload modest supplies — an iPad, a measuring cup, a plastic bucket and a well-used folding ruler.

“Every time we do this, the rancher becomes an ecologist,” the woman in the cowboy hat says.

Read more at Inlander.

The views and opinions expressed are those of the author’s and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of C3.