Willow Leaves 2 - Missoula, Montana

They cluster
uproariously
with green grass
defying encroaching winter fade

still-vibrant variegations
flung from
wanton willow tresses
stripped now
And waiting

-ch

Willow Leaves 1 - Missoula, Montana

Loving the lean lines of the willow leaves strewn about a lawn I cross during my lunchtime walk.

Super Leaf - Missoula, Montana

Well, those of us snuggled under cloudy skies missed out on the luminous glory of last night's supermoon. So here's this red maple leaf from me, instead; I've been saving it for just such a sad scenario. You'll just have to tap into your inner Canadian (you know you want to have one, so dig deep!) - think gratefully polite thoughts and be happy with this.

If the elite inner-Canadian technique doesn't quite work for you, click here to bask in the grand glow of John Solvie's supermoon capture over the Las Vegas, Nevada, mountains, and here for more views from myriad clear-sky locations worldwide. 

Or you can just wait until 2034.

Imperfect Beauty - Missoula, Montana

"...No one but you had sufficient audacity and eyesight to find those clearings where the shy humiliations gambol on sunny afternoons..."

-from Prospero To Arieln, by W. H. Auden (1907-1973), Selected Poems, page 139


And isn't that one of the glories of autumn, that the benevolent sun beams through rusts and imperfections, these hallmarks of transformation, morphing the subject into a thing of bright beauty. And, oh what we miss when we credit these as anything less.

A rather fitting rabbit trail of thought on Remembrance Day, that arrives at thankfulness.

A Little Sunny - Missoula, Montana

"The Indian Summer of life should be a little sunny and a little sad, like the season, and infinite in wealth and depth of tone, but never hustled."

 - Henry Adams 1838-1918)

On Change - Missoula, Montana

"It may be hard for an egg to turn into a bird: it would be a jolly sight harder for it to learn to fly while remaining an egg. 
We are like eggs at present. 
And you cannot go on indefinitely being just an ordinary, decent egg. 
We must be hatched or go bad."

- C S Lewis (1898-1963), from Mere Christianity, pp 170-171

Violet Breath - Missoula, Montana

"You are the only person who loves me in the world," said Elizabeth. "When you talk to me I smell violets." -  L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Windy Poplars (Anne of Green Gables, #4)

Amethyst Souls - Missoula, Montana

"Do you think amethysts can be the souls of good violets?" - L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables (Anne of Green Gables, #1)

May your precious soul be redemptively blessed this Easter Day.

Green Grass Under Snow - Missoula, Montana

"The work of the sun is slow,

But as sure as heaven, we know;

  So we'll not forget,

  When the skies are wet,

There's green grass under the snow..."

- from The Green Grass Under The Snow 
by Annie A. Preston 
(published in varied periodicals & poetry collections in the late 1800s and early 1900s)

In Clover, Missoula, Montana

“…I but seem to see the fluent plain

Rise toward a rain of clover-blooms, as lakes

Pout gentle mounds of plashment up to meet

Big shower-drops. Now the little winds, as bees,

Bowing the blooms come wandering where I lie

Mixt soul and body with the clover-tufts…”

-From “Clover – Inscribed to the Memory of John Keats”, by SidneyLanier (1842-1881)

Clover Revery, Missoula, Montana

“To make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee,

One clover, and a bee,

And revery.

The revery alone will do,

If bees are few.”

― Emily Dickinson, The Complete Poems

Bird Hideaway, Missoula, Montana,

Another hidden smidge of beauty I never before noticed en route to work.

Seeing the bright yellow “bananas” on this caragana hedge sparked happy reminders of a childhood hideaway. Our farm windbreak strategy included a lengthy hedge of this variety as an inner layer. The branches and leaves formed overarching concealment for tea parties and playing with kittens. Turns out caragana is actually in the legume family. Beans, not bananas. Who woulda thunk it?

Tree Shadow, Corvallis, Montana

Instead of a moon shadow, here’s a tree shadow.
Wait - don’t try to change the words of the song - just don’t! Not even in your head! It doesn't have the same smooth flow, and it provides absolutely no improvement on the original.
This personalizing of lyrics is actually a semi-pet peeve of mine - “semi-” because it doesn’t pop over to visit every single day, much like my cat, who often appears to be peeved.
I think the most virulent offense of this nature occurs when otherwise bona fide bands sub “Montana” in for “Alabama” . Yes, the skies are so blue here, too, but beyond that, there‘s no way you can confuse “the Southland“ with a state bordering the Great White North. I say, just enjoy the words as penned and call it good. Or even call it great, as in, "That's a great song!", which is often said of “Sweet Home Alabama”, that generation-bridging song that gets pretty much everyone singing along!