Raining Again, Alberton, Montana

“…my poetry was born between the hill and the river, it took its voice from the rain, and like the timber, it steeped itself in the forests.” - Pablo Neruda  

(Click on the above text links to read more from one of my favourite poets. Plus read about him in this week's news, here.)

Rainy Day Shelter, West Fish Creek, Alberton, Montana

"give me shelter, but
let me see the rain and
the darkening of the sky as the clouds gather...

let me touch the
cooled air, let me feel the way the gray sky
surrounds me and reminds me I am not alone"
- from submission by break_of_day to Writer's Digest 2014 April PAD Challenge: Day 9

Hardy Moss & Lichen, Alberton, Montana

"Lichen is a hardy plant
hardy hardy 
taking
sustenance from the granite ledge
nouriture from the dead elm bole
icy plant hoar plant
living kin
to rime
the north plant
flower
of death poverty and resolution."
- by Hayden Carruth, #43 from North Winter

Raining Again, Alberton, Montana

For the weather whingers out there who bemoaned the cold and snow: I hope you’re happy now.

Rainy days in the low 40s Fahrenheit resolving to nighttime lows around freezing make for an interesting morning commute hereabouts.

But beauty still abounds, as here in the misting rain suspended on last season’s tenacious leaves.

Riverbank Habitat, Alberton, Montana

Riverbank cutaways bring to mind Mole of Kenneth Grahame’s “Wind In the Willows”.

“He saw clearly how plain and simple - how narrow, even - it all was; but clearly, too, how much it all meant to him, and the special value of some such anchorage in one's existence. He did not at all want to abandon the new life and its splendid spaces, to turn his back on sun and air and all they offered him and creep home and stay there; the upper world was all too strong, it called to him still, even down there, and he knew he must return to the larger stage. But it was good to think he had this to come back to, this place which was all his own, these things which were so glad to see him again and could always be counted upon for the same simple welcome.”
― Kenneth Grahame, The Wind in the Willows

A change of perspective sometimes reveals new wonder, and rediscovers misplaced appreciation. 

Hipster Scene, Alberton, Montana

Rose hips - not just a pretty berry, but chock full of Vitamin C for the taking - unless they're growing in along a public roadway, and then you prob'ly don't want to eat them because of pesticide and weed-kill overspray. But other than that, I've heard they make a delicious tea and are really good for you.

Moss Green Carpet, Alberton, Montana

As I recollect it, the living room carpet of our childhood was the exact shade of the moss on the far bank of Fish Creek pictured here. This revolutionary short-shag carpet boasted a lovely texture that also got us a bonus carpet rake, required to maintain optimum lovely texture.
If you were born before, say, 1973, you won’t understand this.
But that’s not a bad thing.
You weren’t really missing anything, except the assigned chore of carpet raking that even a 5-year-old could do - and, yes, that 5-year-old was me. Thankfully, carpet raking didn’t make my “chores that I hate” list; that was pretty much a short list of one item: dusting. But, I’ve moved on; I’ve dealt with those issues; I‘m not bitter. Really.

Seasons Crossing, West Fish Creek, Alberton, Montana

"My evil genius Procrastination has whispered me to tarry 'til a more convenient season."
- Mary Todd Lincoln

Melodic Riffles, West Fish Creek, Alberton, Montana

“We are the music-makers,
And we are the dreamers of dreams,
Wandering by lone sea-breakers,
And sitting by desolate streams;
World-losers and world-forsakers,
On whom the pale moon gleams:
Yet we are the movers and shakers
Of the world forever, it seems….”

-From by Ode by Arthur O’Shaughnessy (1844-1881)

(Note: Willy Wonka quotes the first line in "Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory" by Roald Dahl.)

Moss Capture, Alberton, Montana

Travel and society polish one, but a rolling stone gathers no moss, and a little moss is a good thing on a man.
John Burroughs
Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/keywords/moss.html#krmxie1ikkVcgsos.99

"Travel and society polish one, but a rolling stone gathers no moss, and a little moss is a good thing on a man." - John Burroughs (1837-1921)

Travel and society polish one, but a rolling stone gathers no moss, and a little moss is a good thing on a man.
Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/j/johnburrou387520.html#FppCIJp7AVAaQgkl.99

Friday the 13th - Eek! - at least on this side of the International Date Line.
Not that I'm superstitious.
But it is a handy opportunity to raise one eyebrow, dredge up a deep, scary voice, and say, "MWAH HAH HAAAA!".
You could also try the effect on this sentence: "The ICE drops are TRAPPED in the clinging moss - MWAH HAH Haaaaaaa!"

Transition, Alberton, Montana

Drip
Dropping down
Held
To pool and glimmer
Momentarily
Catch the eye
Toward 
This sometime resting place
Small wonder

- CH

Misted Trestle, West Fish Creek, Alberton, Montana

As we tramped amongst the rocks at Fish Creek, headgear damp with intermittent spits of the lowering mist, a freight train thundered across the shrouded trestle. 
Many would think this disruptive, perhaps even shaking a fist skyward whilst exclaiming, 'Curse you, disturbing creature of man!' 
But not me. 
Partly because we'd already happened upon a recently wolf-mauled deer carcass, which qualifies as at least a day's quota of disturbing. 
But mostly because I've loved trains from the summer I was 5-ish and siblings three rode for a couple hours in a passenger car to visit our grandparents in Red Deer, Alberta. 
The rails have charmed me ever since.
So I smiled toward the receding roar, and enjoyed a bonus to an already favourite-things-filled day.

Wish Rock II, Alberton, Montana

Wish rocks - those having a ring completely around them - were a recurring delight over the weekend. 
Walking up Blue Mountain, my sister and I marveled at large ones - the size of all four of our feet together - in the roadway. 
And at Fish Creek, they were scattered all about the bared creek bed. 
See more of Fish Creek at my friend’s photo feed, True Element Images.

Neither Rain Nor Sleet, W. Fish Creek, Alberton, Montana

Sunday was surprisingly rainy, thanks to an unexpected warm before the storms blow down from Canada. 

But a wee bit of precipitation didn’t keep my friend, J., and me from our photo outing to West Fish Creek, near Alberton, Montana. 

As my sainted mother would say, with a smile, “You’re not made of sugar, are you?”