In the quiet of the afternoon...

Dear you,
 
In the quiet of the afternoon, I was able, with tail looped, to drag whole Alberta mountain ranges so they sat in perpetual sun. What roads there were proved obliging, and what person there was who noticed little minded if the route to the local fishing spot was not made longer. Doing this remains my peculiar whim and passes the hours,
 
Those mountains, one remarked, why, they’re darn near as close to the moon as the very stars.
 
Yours with a haired lasso for a tail,
X
 
[Odd to be able to see the moon and stars if basked in perpetual sun. Perhaps the writer refers to perpetuity in purely romantic sense.]