Spring Rain Like Kindness - Missoula, Montana

“Kindness, after all, did not distinguish between those who merited it and those who did not. It was like rain, she thought. It fell everywhere and made everything green and new and alive once more. That is what it did.”

-Mma Ramotswe in To the Land of Long Lost Friends, No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency Series, by Alexander McCall Smith, p. 70-71 (lg type)

Have Patience, Gardeners! - Spring Snow - Missoula MT

Just a little reminder why last frost/safe planting dates in Western Montana are typically late May…

Snow-capped Clarity - Missoula, Montana

“It is a fault to wish to be understood before we have made ourselves clear to ourselves.”
—  Simone Weil (1909-1943)

 (Thank you,  Tim Ferriss for this hmmmm-provoking gem.)

Ponderosa Pine-ing For Good Vanilla - The Teller Trail, Bitterroot River, Corvallis, Montana

 Sister Three did not believe (read: she snorted a laugh) when I declared: "Some ponderosa pines smell like really, really good vanilla." The gauntlet thrown, I immediately spied a turnout near a likely specimen - and converted her by truth evidenced (amidst continued giggling because  other laid-back drivers passed by and we did, indeed, look silly leaning in close to sniff the craggy, russet bark). Hurrah for random weird and happy things worth knowing!

 

Serious Winter Birds - East Missoula, Montana

"In November, some birds move away and some birds stay. The air is full of good-byes and well-wishes. The birds who are leaving look very serious. No silly spring chirping now. They have long journeys and must watch where they are going. The staying birds are serious, too, for cold times lie ahead. Hard times. All berries will be treasures." - Cynthia Rylant, In November

(I couldn't resist another chunky view of these winter-brave songsters, hence the two-part mini-series.)

Intersections - West of Superior, Montana

"It may be that when we no longer know what to do, 
we have come to our real work
and when we no longer know which way to go,
we have begun our real journey.

The mind that is not baffled is not employed.
The impeded stream is the one that sings.” - Wendell Berry

Dappled Sky - Superior, Montana

"Glory be to God for dappled things – 

   For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;..." - from 'Pied Beauty' by Gerard Manley Hopkins

Westward Shadows - Alberton, Montana

As Johnny Nash famously sang, "It's gonna be a bright, bright, sunshiny day..." - perfect road trip weather!

Easy Climbing - South of Helena, Montana

“The vision must be followed by the venture. 

It is not enough to stare up the steps - we must step up the stairs.” - Vance Havner (1901-1986)

(Tune in tomorrow for the stepped up view. 

Same bat time, same bat channel.) 

Electrified - East Missoula, Montana

“Personal transformation can and does have global effects. As we go, so goes the world, for the world is us. The revolution that will save the world is ultimately a personal one.” - Marianne Williamson

Sunset Sentinels, Missoula, Montana

“To me a lush carpet of pine needles or spongy grass is more welcome than the most luxurious Persian rug.” - Helen Keller (1880-1968)

Cone Cluster, Missoula, Montana

More spring freshness of the pine variety - almost a sturdy nosegay! In the language of flowers, what secret lover’s message would such a grouping convey? 

(Click the text links to read about this fragrant communication - which beats a text message hands down for romance.)

Blue Mountain Green, Missoula, Montana

The sun’s last rays sneak over a summit bordering Blue Mountain to backlight spring’s grass to luminous glow.

Open View, Blue Mountain, Missoula, Montana

A pervasive question this time of year, at least in Western Montana: Is it really spring?

Yesterday, across the brooding, open meadows, I heard meadowlark song. 

I believe.

To hear it for yourself, click here.
The audio sample is to the bottom right of the photo. 

Countdown to Christmas, Missoula, Montana

Today the countdown to Christmas begins in earnest - 24 days left.

With little seeds of snow sprinkled about the foothills, we’ll hope the real thing sprouts to great white drifts just in time for the blessed day - but not much before. 
After all, there‘s commuting to be done, and driving skills decline remarkably with the each incremental layer of the cold white stuff.

Golden Almost-Twilight, Missoula, Montana

To gain a pleasing aspect on the waning day’s golden glow, I stepped through grass bunches down the hillside, carefully alert for dog poop. Being shod in Five Fingers Mary Janes, random leftovers were a concern. 
In the quiet focus of framing my shot, l leaned in to calming sounds of urban nature - wind swishing through late leaves, happy dog barks further up the trail, a rhythmic rustling clicking in the grass - wait, what was that clicking thing? Are there snakes up here? Hmmm, these might be the wrong shoes for the terrain. And this trail is in the Rattlesnake Valley …. I really have no idea what a rattlesnake rattle sounds like - except for those stupid trick envelopes labeled “Rattlesnake Eggs“ ….Time to go! 
Swinging my monopod golf-club-style through the grass, I made it safely back to the civilized path and breathed deeply to disperse the paranoia. 
Moral of the story: Nature is not always calming, but the odds are higher if you plan - and stay on the trail.

Praying For Rain, Victor, Montana

August is fire season in western Montana. Smoke blows into the valleys not only from area fires, but also from ones in neighboring states.
Consider a visit later in September, and enjoy clear skies and cool nights.

Gentle Snowfall, Crazy Canyon, Missoula, Montana

One of my favourite Christmas cards ever received features a black and white photo of children, togged out in 60s-era parkas and mittens, arms spread wide, catching snowflakes on their tongues. It seems to be a universal response, regardless your age. Maybe in our era it has something to do with the pace of life racing past - we want to capture something that still exists in its own time and pace, unpushed by demands. Snowflakes fall, float, are gusted about by wind. They simply are, in all their complex crystalline selves. I'll take a double helping of that, please.

Crazy Canyon Charlie Brown Tree, Missoula, Montana

With a little tinsel and a shiny red glass ball, I'm sure this little sprout would be in the running for a 2013 Charlie Brown Christmas tree.

Lofty Moss, Pattee Canyon, Missoula, Montana

In the historical novel, “Every Fixed Star“, author Jane Kirkpatrick describes women in the 1800s harvesting a specific variety of moss, then soaking, shaping and drying it for winter food which, reconstituted in the middle of a cold winter, was considered quite tasty. Imagine that.  Actually, imagine it and then commence being very thankful.
Throughout the story, she also explores the concept of metier, a French word meaning vocation or forte, but with strong shades of finding work to which one is best suited. Having recently been through a fairly major up-heaving transition in my own life, I was drawn to the repeated reflection on metier in the lives of her characters. So far, I’ve come to think that, for many, the search is ongoing, flowing with times and seasons. And in the midst of these, we need to be fully present and give ourselves grace to appreciate the here and now.