18 October 2014

Guest: Pat Richards: Less Travelled - Bitterroot Valley, Montana

My youngest older sister and her husband visited about 6 weeks ago - hard to believe it's been that long ago already.  Gleefully for me, their Montana meanderings yielded some reflective perspectives and worthy views, both of scenery and heart. Thanks for sharing from your good well, Pat.
You can see what Pat & Gary are up to lately at their missions blog, Journeys With God.
"Two roads diverged in the middle of my life, I heard a wise man say. And I took the one less traveled by, and that's made the difference, every night and every day."

Larry Norman's introspective adaption of Robert Frost's descriptive poem has often given me pause and provided comfort when weighing life choices.

Give a listen here to this lyrical pioneer's song and take a step back into a segment of the '70s. 
Tell me what music of your growing up left a lasting impression.
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17 October 2014

Reed Shadows At Dusk, Charlo, Montana

Do you ever favour something so much that you want to save it - the best for last, in a sense? Perhaps the magazine you must read entirely before anyone else paws through it? Or a best-loved book that you hoped could be your own special copy?

As a kid, I did this regularly with food on my plate - mashed potatoes and gravy at family dinners, partly because I‘d scooped out a little moat and filled it with Mum‘s great gravy. And French fries when we ate out, guarded against sneaky sibling thievery - still my weakness; the French fries, I mean . (No comment on what this quirk might say about me.)

This photo was taken during an earlier fall drive up the Flathead Valley. Ninepipes Reservoir's shining waters beckoned me to stop and see what there was to see, which included a mystically shifting sunset, for starters (and dessert). I first walked out on the little pier in the fishing pond next to the parking lot. Trout were rising, leaving concentric rings to ripple a different surface section every few minutes. The dusk-shaded depths of the water were intense, with the last of the fish rings fading on the edges. It was so pervasively peaceful. 
So, I savoured this favourite photo, keeping it all to myself for a few weeks. 
But today is a good day to share. 
Happy Friday. 

(But the French fries are still all mine - unless you've got a bite of something else good to trade!)

Share your very own personal favourites (pretty please with a cherry on top!) or fill in the blank:  "Don't even think about sharing my ________________!" in the comments below. 
Enquiring minds want to know. 

(Time-Saving Hint: If you're in a hurry & want to avoid log-in rigamarole, submit comments as "Anonymous"; you can type your name at the end of your comments.)

16 October 2014

Undergrowth - Missoula, Montana

“…It’s a place of healing,
the forest floor.
A place intent on living.

Where each movement beneath the
towering company of life informs the next.

A little slower this time.
A little softer.
More quiet.

And with each surrendering breath,
another can be heard….”

The full poem is a click away - right here; enjoy and be inspired to venture out to your own forest view.

15 October 2014

Siren’s Shore, Polson, Montana

"...I grow old ... I grow old ...
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

Shall I part my hair behind?   Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

I do not think that they will sing to me. 
I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black...."

  - From The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock
By T. S. Eliot (1888–1965)

14 October 2014

Fencing the Clouds, Missoula, Montana

“Blue sky, white cloud, the wind, and emptiness,
Deep, deep down the rapids’ sounds echo,
Rim to rimrock roaring flows, of the old river,
A wind beneath two ravens’ wings….”

-From “A Man and a Woman“ by Drum Hadley

Drum Hadley - what a fitting name for a cowboy poet. I'm betting your imagination rendered a portrait of lean and lonesome proportions.

Read the rest of this poem and more of Hadley's poetry here; plus you'll also get the bonus of clean ink and brush illustrations by Andrew Rush.)

13 October 2014

Pointing West, Missoula, Montana

“…Drink tea and watch the landscape forget itself. Think of your life
in place, not time. Another time, you’re walking home beside the same river.
Evening is crimson
                       along the horizon.
Look, you say to the child, pointing west.
It’s over there, too, he says, pointing east. The place has you almost surrounded. And there’s a dragon, he says. (There’s always a dragon.) Wingecarribee Zen…”

- from “
Eclogues” By Mark Tredinnick (b. 1962)
(Please do click the text link and ramble through the lovely language in this poem of everyday.)

12 October 2014

Fall Diehard, Missoula, Montana

“Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes courage is the little voice at the end of the day that says I'll try again tomorrow.”
Mary Anne Radmacher