Rosy, Lolo, Montana

This wild rose was blooming last week in Montana’s mountains- a fitting farewell to Wild Rose Country, as I cross the southern border after a lovely week in Alberta.

From Every Mountainside, Missoula, Montana

“…From every mountainside, let freedom ring.” - Samuel F. Smith (1808-1895)

Big Clouds, Green Grass, Missoula, Montana

“Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under the trees on a summer's day, listening to the murmur of water, or

watching the clouds float across the blue sky, is by no means waste of time.” ~John Lubbock
, "Recreation," The Use of Life, 1894

Columbine, Hamilton, Montana

“How tiny is your heart of gold
And layered skirts so gay
Dance for me my sweet columbine
Your pretty swinging sway...”

From “Sweet Columbine” by Australian writer adgray

Read the full poem here; click the text links for more from this author’s RedBubble site.

Maple Leaf Future, Missoula, Montana

Happy Canada Day!

Surrounded by celebratory reminders - from flapping flags on passing cars to fireworks this evening, - I am especially thankful for this country that still includes “free” in the national anthem.
Not perfect, but still free.
And that means so much.

(Note: This maple leaves and wingnuts photo was taken in Montana, in another beloved country whose song honours freedom.)

Wild Rose, Missoula, Montana

“The Wild Rose” – by Wendell Berry
Sometimes, hidden from me in daily custom and in ritual
I live by you unaware, as if by the beating of my heart.
Suddenly you flare again in my sight
A wild rose at the edge of the thicket where yesterday there was only shade
And I am blessed and choose again,
That which I chose before.

Windswept, Sunburst, Montana

For a couple hours of driving, I marvelled at the progress of this cloud formation, then finally stopped near Sunburst, Montana, to snap a photo. As I crouched, the rain-freshened scent from the blooming alfalfa stirred childhood memories. A small field between our house and the road sometimes blossomed bright and high with purple alfalfa. After it was mowed, it became home to pick-up softball games with our family or my brothers and their friends. Despite being at the you’re-too-little stage, I landed a pretty important job: Speedy Gonzales. My mum was a solid hitter, but asthma kept her from running. So my job was to be fleet of feet. Nice work if you can get it, I always thought.