The first thing we do at Soleiana's house is climb up a tree, grab a rope and swing out across the field; two full-grown adults, one of them (the hostess) joyfully setting the tone for the other (me).
An early evening bathes Soleiana Abernathy’s property in light, the kind of light that draws travelers to this little-known pocket of high mountain desert in Wyoming. Where I see the place bathed in sunset, Soleiana sees something more. Her dad.
Soleiana’s father started putting together the family’s ranch in the early '60s, and it now belongs to her.
“The place is soaked in him,” she says when I first ask her where she’d like to be photographed.
Upon my arrival to the property, Soleiana tells me that we’re going irrigating. With child-like enthusiasm, I hop into the bright blue bronco, with her dog in the backseat. As I admire the verdant acreage around us, I realize quickly its a result of hours her hard work.