We were alone one night on a long

    road in Montana. This was in winter， a big

    night， far to the stars. We had hitched¹，

    my wife and I， and left our ride at

    a crossing to go on. Tired and cold but

    brave—we trudged² along. This， we said，

    was our life， watched over， allowed to go

    where we wanted. We said we'd come back some time

    when we got rich. We'd leave the others and find

    a night like this， whatever we had to give，

    and no matter how far， to be so happy again