the peaceful peacock

Well, this is the way home.  Whatevs.

It’s June 10th.  It’s snowing.

I would like to say this is unusual but it isn’t.

You get through it.

You take a deep breath.

You focus on the pos­i­tive (fewer fires in August and September).

You hun­ker down.

You accept it.

You bake.

You think about other things.

You get through today.

You make it to the next tree.

You clean your house.

You orga­nize the closets.

You look at old photographs.

You let your kids watch tv.

You remind your­self that it won’t be this way forever.

You’re grate­ful.

You don’t complain.

You suck it up.

You do it.

Because that is what needs to be done.

And that is the essence of liv­ing in Mon­tana.  The les­son that shapes the peo­ple who choose to let their hearts and bod­ies roam free in these moun­tains and prairies.

A les­son that most places have forgotten.

Some of you know, some of you don’t, but we took a grand fam­ily jour­ney back to Ari­zona over the last week.  Good med­i­cine for the slow drag of win­ter come Feb­ru­ary.  I feel cryp­tic and filled with color, a feel­ing almost for­got­ten in my three year baby-growing respite from the road.

Sim­ple sen­sa­tions of home are fresh and won­der­ful once again.

Touch­ing :: The faces of my sweet beau­ties, who are upside down and inside out from three days of confinement.

Tast­ing :: The mem­ory of carne asada.  And salsa.  And fresh tor­tillas.  Sighhhhhhhhh.…

Smelling :: Fresh moun­tain air ~ clean, camp­firey, and instinc­tively famil­iar on a deep and sat­is­fy­ing level.

Hear­ing :: The preen­ing of birds and the purring of cats.

See­ing :: The beloved big skies of home.

Stay tuned for pic­tures.  Lots of pictures.

I take it back about not mak­ing any New Year’s Res­o­lu­tions.  The other day we were out play­ing under the blue­berry sky again and I stum­bled across a solu­tion that solved a lot more than my query about how to make the moun­tains look big­ger with my sim­ple camera…

Aim higher.

The win­ter lasts a long time in Montana.

A looooooong time.

We are cur­rently in the throngs of Win­ter 2, the post-Christmas lull before the real deep-freeze mad­ness sets in.

This year we have been graced with plenty of still, blue skies and pre­co­cious black birds to waken our dreary eyes.  A refresh­ing prepa­ra­tion for our next season.

Still Win­ter.

Hang in there, say the black birds. Make new plans for gar­dens and sum­mer­time frills, fix the parts of your insides that ask for atten­tion still.

Thank you for your mes­sage, Brother Birds.  You hang in there too.