Friday, July 1, 2011
Montana Summer Days
Seeds of new life encompassed in cotton, floating on each ribbon of wind that gently carries them. In groups of thousands, they wistfully and dreamily float, like a lover pining for his mate.
Sweet grass, aspen, pine trees and wildflowers perfume the air in a way that makes one spend all their time inhaling deeply, expanding their lungs to full capacity. It is as if by doing so, the air might slip into the bloodstream and permeate their being.
Warm summer days grow wild grass by the inches. Pollen dusts fence posts in a warm glow of yellow. A relentless creek steadily flows, fresh, cold, life-water. Busy wildlife goes about its business with a purpose; summer is all too brief.
Bright sun is chased away by dark clouds as a storm moves in. Lightening tears the sky in two. Thunder begins to rumble in stereo before its crashing boom exercises its authority. Wind plays a song on the chimes adorning a porch. Rain drops begin to fall on a metal roof, creating a rhythmic symphony. Quickly the storm moves through and the deer once again emerge from the brush; birds begin their chorus once again. Children puddle-jump and the smell of wet pine adds a new fragrance to the air.
Where once they were cold, powdered, pillars that quietly blended into the looming clouds, now the jagged mountains dominate the landscape. Varying shades of green trickle down each face, only stopping to bow before the grande river cutting through the canyon floor. Eagles keep watch as deer, antelope and wild horses enjoy the grass-bounty.
Sun holds its sleep at bay until just before night is at its midpoint. It arises early, stretching its arms to bring its warm embrace to as many as it can touch.
And so it goes, all over again.