As the moon cast its silver glow upon the rugged terrain, Clyde found solace beneath the branches of a weathered oak tree. His weary form leaned against the gnarled trunk, the duster coat draped around him like a protective cocoon against the chill of the desert night. The herd of sheep, their bleats a gentle lullaby in the stillness, grazed nearby under the watchful eye of their guardian. Clyde’s hat, pulled low over his brow, shielded his eyes from the shimmering stars above, allowing him to drift into a realm where dreams and memories intertwined.He dosen’t notice you, he remains deep asleep