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It's the Wild West. Tumbleweeds chase each other across the dusty street. The sun slants sideways as evening falls. A stranger comes into town, pistol on his belt, ten-gallon hat pulled low over his eyes. It's the dime-a-dozen Western plot: this new gunslinger rids the town of whatever the latest plague may be, whether it's crooked sheriffs, a gang of robbers, or a mob boss. The people beg him to stay -- maybe offer him money, a position as mayor or sheriff -- but he just tips his hat. He puts his gun back in the holster. He's made his changes. Tumbleweeds chase each other across the dusty street. The sun slants sideways as evening falls. And the stranger walks away from town, headed into the sunset, off to find other wilderness to tame and other hearts to tame. He's not a leader. He's just making the way clear for someone to step up and make a positive change.
