The greatest bush in all of the state. On it's own, it's a gnarly little thing with a woody trunk and sharp, brittle branches. Its leaves are dry, with almost no color except the lightest touch of green, like a faded artifact. Even the youngest ones look somehow ancient. They often grow in groups, covering entire hillsides — stripping the landscape of color except for that lightest touch of green. That particular tone, combined with the uninterrupted sky, is how I know — I'm in Wyoming, and I love it here.