Descent, Missoula, Montana

#17 on list of “Where Not To Eat Your Lunch When You Hear Thunder”

Red Velvet, Missoula, Montana

Red rover, red rover, we call CUPCAKE over!
Bernice's Bakery's red velvet fairy cake, to be specific - real buttercream, not too sweet - a perfect way to cap off a delightful afternoon with one of my spunky nieces.
(You should be impressed that I delayed nibbling to take this commemorative photo.)

(LOL Note: If you ever play red rover - even if you hated it - , please please please click & read the first text link for a healthy laughter dose!)

Flow, Clark Fork River, Missoula, Montana

“Water does not resist. Water flows. When you plunge your hand into it, all you feel is a caress. Water is not a solid wall, it will not stop you. But water always goes where it wants to go, and nothing in the end can stand against it. Water is patient. Dripping water wears away a stone. Remember that, my child. Remember you are half water. If you can't go through an obstacle, go around it. Water does.”
― Margaret Atwood, The Penelopiad

Sky Lines, Missoula, Montana

“Good composition is like a suspension bridge; each line adds strength and takes none away... Making lines run into each other is not composition. There must be motive for the connection. Get the art of controlling the observer – that is composition.” - Robert Henri (1865-1929)

Evening Song, Missoula, Montana

Initially, I got all excited thinking this was a meadowlark, which is the true harbinger of spring in western Montana, and the only bird call I mimic rather well, if I do say so myself.

Living in the great Montana metropolis (woohoo!) for this past year, it’s been a while since my little eye has spied an actual meadowlark, as they prefer less cluttered habitat & keep their distance from urban chickens. It appears time has blurred my memory of their critical markings. After realizing his waistcoat was all wrong & the cheek spot was excess, I decided it would behoove me to discover who really was perched atop the lamp by the river path. Best I can find, it’s a variety of flicker. (Thanks to the Mrs. Casselman, my astonishingly patient juniour high school science teacher, I can recognize a red-winged flicker in flight, since the underside of their wings are - imagine - red.)

Please feel free to share any bird lore or adolescent science inspirations in your story bag!

Begun-Begat-Begone, Missoula, Montana

Dandelions are woven into happy childhood memories: looping stalks into large-linked necklaces on a sunny afternoon; seed puffs drifting magically on the wind of my breath; do you like butter?
Sad that such innocent enjoyment is a casualty of home ownership. Now, every dandelion puff threatens a tidal wave of perpetual propagation. (If you're looking for salad greens, stay off my lawn, because the Sprayer of Doom is coming out - as soon as there are two consecutive dry days in the forecast.)

Dazzling Green, Missoula, Montana

"A bow-shot from her bower-eaves,
He rode between the barley-sheaves,
The sun came dazzling thro’ the leaves,
And flamed upon the brazen greaves
       Of bold Sir Lancelot. "
-Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1809–1892).  From “The Lady of Shalott”, Part III