“Beside the grand history of the glaciers and their own, the mountain streams sing the history of every avalanche or earthquake and of snow, all easily recognized by the human ear, and every word evoked by the falling leaf and drinking deer, beside a thousand other facts so small and spoken by the stream in so low a voice the human ear cannot hear them. “ — John Muir (1838-914, Mountain Thoughts
24 December 2021
21 December 2021
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.)
04 December 2021
UM Griz Football Famous Fan - Missoula, Montana
28 November 2021
Into The Gap - Jocko Falls, near Arlee, Montana
“There's this gap, Jack. This opening between the story it is and the story I had wanted it to be - that's where the pain is, and that's where God came in and where I now hope transformation can happen.”
“For too long we avoided that gap, didn’t we?”
“Yes. I turned way from it with every preoccupation known to man. But no more.“
Jack donned his tattered grey fisherman’s hat… “Whenever you’d like to talk about it, you know, our friendship is big enough even for the sorrow.”
—Patti Callahan in Becoming Mrs. Lewis (the audiobook is quite lovely!)
17 November 2021
Sunlight Falling - Rattlesnake Creek, Missoula, Montana
“The second day in Oxford arrived, luminescent, the honey hues of sunlight falling from the leaves to settle on the grass like spilled paint. The air was as clear as glass and soft as cotton.” - from Becoming Mrs Lewis by Patti Callahan, Chapter 12
12 November 2021
Full-Fed - Big Hole River, Near Wisdom, Montana
(Thanks again to Sissie 3 for sharing meander views!)

03 November 2021
Autumn Ice - Flathead River, Near Kalispell, Montana
(Many thanks to Sissie #3 for sharing this recent ramble pic!)
01 November 2021
Tamarack Display - Near St. Ignatius,, Montana
Came like snow on marsh cranberries;
The tamarack kept something for her;
The wind is ready to help her shoes.….”
- from Helga by Carl Sandburg (1878-1967)




