Finding Home in Montana

“What is life? It is the flash of a firefly in the night. It is the breath of a buffalo in the wintertime. It is the little shadow which runs across the grass and loses itself in the sunset.” Crowfoot, Native American warrior and orator

Coming and Going

Image03.02.13  At last, I am back home.  I took this photo of the Italian Alps shortly before the plane landed in Venice and my rendezvous with Nick and Sarah.  We had four days to explore the “City of Dreams” together before joining Don in Asiago at his ski races.   I am always unbalanced when I’m away from home for long, but I guess that’s the nature of travel, exploring those edges.  I am better for it, of course,  and it doesn’t take long to remember the adventures and misadventures fondly.  I am always deeply grateful for the experiences shared with those I love most in all the world.

And now we come home to March.  White bright light comes through the winter-dirty wall of windows.  The piles of wool throws and clutter of magazines and books stacked high at every table begin to close in my space.  I can’t wait to pack up boxes from my closets and take them to Goodwill.  It’s the mud season with rain one day and snow the next.  A time of transition.  I’m so looking forward to this month of making my home clear and spare, with winter washed away by rains and wind, and scoured clean by returning sunlight.

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