March Marching On - Missoula, Montana

March in Montana means daffodils strive impatiently to bloom

 while humans still need a toque on lunchtime walks. 

(Well, at least those of us with Tinkerbell haircuts casting faerie ears out into the blustery March winds.)

Bee At Work - Missoula, Montana

"..even the insects in my path are not loafers, but have their special errands".

– Henry David Thoreau, 1906

Easter Joy - Missoula, Montana

Easter morning, for most of my adult life, included a phone call to my grandma to exchange the Paschal Greeting she taught me, this being some of the few words of Ukrainian I still remember. (Other key phrases in my repertoire are standard in every traveler guidebook, I'm sure: 'You're gonna get in trouble!' and 'He/She is crazy', this last having a literal translation along lines of being beat about the head with a sack too much.)

While my life is blessed by loving family who share the thankfulness of all that Easter means, I shall forever miss my grandma's voice across the miles:

Христос воскрес! Воістину воскрес!

(Pronounced:Khrystos voskres! Voyistynu voskres!

Translated: "Christ is risen!" / "He is risen, Indeed!")

But what a beautiful thing to miss.

Daffodil Trio, Missoula, Montana

This vibrant daffodil trio looks to be in formation to trumpet out peppy horn concerto. (Definitely more rousing than the soothing Ricola anthem.)

Daffodil Blue Sky, Missoula, Montana

Today is the last day of the Ansel Adams photo exhibit at the Missoula Art Museum.
I was inspired, and reminded of why I love black and white photography.
But that will have to wait until the the daffodils are not so deliriously sunny.