Pipe Dreams, Missoula, Montana

While I can credit - or perhaps blame - my six older siblings for mentally indelible song lyrics from divergent sources like Nancy Sinatra and Donny Osmond, I'm not sure what in my childhood birthed a fascination with commercial building materials. If I were a person with masses of money and an inclination to own and decorate multiple houses, at least one of them would feature clean lines in dark wood timbers complemented synergistically with swaths of metal. But, since I lack both profligate funds and the desire to clutter my life with more sources of paperwork, I indulge the industrial yen with digital photos.
I am thankful for railyards and junk lots.

Nursery Dreams of Flowers, Missoula, Montana

When some people dream of nurseries, they envision soft paint colours and snuggly stuffed animals. But a whole other sub-cultural obsession exists with nurseries of the plant variety - you may resemble that remark, and know of what I speak. The other day, we stopped to buy some essentials at the one-stop chain store in our neighborhood.  Before we even got to the front doors, I was totally waylaid  by mesmerizing row upon row of glorious flowers, herbs, shrubs.... a soft wind carried their siren song : "Only stop to look at us, please...". Oh, the lush promise in a plastic four-pack!
Thanks to my husbands' task-oriented focus, I made it safely through without crashing on the rocks of landscaping love (or is it lust?).