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

Morning light

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10.28.13  8:40 a.m.  Every year I am shocked out how dark it is in the mornings, here on the western edge of the time zone, way up north so close to Canada.  With Daylight Savings Time this week-end, there will be some reprieve for a few weeks, but as the earth turns in her orbit, daylight continues to vanish rapidly.  Frederick Smock, in his poem, “Moon”, says it perfectly:

The day lengthens,
the old earth tips its hat
to the moon.

The changeful moon
goes through many phases,
even in a single night,

though it is the same
moon as ever, we know this.
We are the changes.

 

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