Sometimes timing is everything. I didn't expect any drama when I first noticed a few wild horses near the intersection of county roads 52 and 80 in Moffat County, but it wouldn't take long before drama would come to me -- both in front of and behind the camera.

I liked the potential of the 52/80 signs because of the mile-high connection people make to Colorado and Denver, even if this was slightly higher and much further west than the Front Range. The background landscape was amazing and the light was pretty decent. Two groups of horses and one solo male were scattered around the intersection, but would any of them approach or pass through? Yes, yes they would, but so would a random stranger that couldn't help but interrupt me while I was photographing.

In this super remote area of northwest Colorado, I hadn't seen a single person all day. When I stopped at this particular spot, I was initially alone except for the horses scattered about.

The dark horse noticed me and his body language showed some curiosity about me -- which is exactly what I want. He slowly grazed and drifted my direction.

A moment later, a truck approached on the opposite side of the horse. The truck stopped about 60-70 yards away and a woman rolled down her window. I braced myself for whatever was coming. Ego drives so many of these random strangers, and it was clear this was another case of arrogance right from the start.

Not to sound cynical, but I try to avoid people as much as possible while photographing. My focus is on the moment and the animals, but as I've mentioned occasionally in prior posts, a surprisingly high percentage of people approach me and they proceed to tell me what I'm doing wrong, in their opinions. Because of the literal hundreds of people that have imposed their opinions or questions on me while I'm in the middle of photographing, I've become increasingly reluctant to interact with them in these situations. I've missed a lot of shots while trying to be polite and address their remarks. Most people are reasonably polite even if they are interrupting me, but because 20-30% of them are arrogant/rude/etc I have little patience for the persistent interruptions.

The woman had to yell out of her window in order for me to hear her over the diesel engine, the blowing wind and the distance between us. I'm not a fan of raised voices, particularly when wild animals are present. But, she just couldn't help herself.

"That horse's name is" blah blah blah, she called out. She went on to rattle off names of other horses that were in the area and she pointed a direction that I needed to go so that I could see some other horse. I nodded my head and barely said a word in hopes that she would read my body language. I didn't want to be interrupted. She left for the time being.

This remote area of the state is a labyrinth of mostly unmarked dirt roads and the idea that I would drop everything to go try and find what she was vaguely describing is pretty ridiculous. But, whatever - she was gone and I could resume my focus on the horse and the moment.

A few minutes later, the woman in the truck decided to come back. I hadn't moved an inch, except for sitting down in the dirt. The horse was much closer to me at this point and he was using one of the signs as a scratching post. The scene was starting to develop, but here we go again with someone that wants to come talk to me while I'm preoccupied.

The woman parked her truck and began walking to me. I could hear her coming closer as she made her way through the sagebrush. I hardly looked her direction because I've learned that this is when I miss shots. As she walked closer she started calling out at me telling me that I should go drive somewhere else to go see some other horses. Her tone was boastful. I was exactly where I wanted to be, and that alone is what I should have simply said. Without looking at her I said "ma'am I know exactly what I'm doing". My tone was basically - no thank you, leave me alone, you're interrupting and I am annoyed.

I didn't yell and I didn't curse. She stopped in her tracks, punctuated by what we heard coming. At that exact moment, the sound of thundering hooves began racing our direction.

A second mustang crested the hill and thankfully I was still reasonably focused on the situation in front of me. The fast approaching horse ran directly in front of me -- and in front of the 52/80 signs. The two mustangs met face-to-face and held a close embrace for a moment. The darker horse decided to run along, rather than do battle. The moment had lasted only a few seconds, but I love the action sequence of photos that took place at that same time. Had I decided to turn and address the woman, I would have missed most or all of the action.

Shortly after the action settled, she walked away having realized that her imposition was not welcomed.

Aside from the distraction, it was a gorgeous moment to watch. I was in exactly the right spot for what I wanted in that moment and I'm glad that I stayed focused and held my ground. In a surprise twist, the darker horse who she called 'Amethyst' would approach me the next morning for another round of stunning images.