Finding Winter

Winter here in the West has not been, by a skier’s standards, the finest. But nonetheless, we’ve foundĀ  cold and snow, sporadically, with effort, and with great bouts of spring-time warmth in between. In a forest service cabin, on the mountainside, in the depths of Cooke City. It’s been a winter of mourning for a hound dog that kept pace by my side for fifteen years, and so I must say that everything in this landscape feels slightly off, tainted with grief–both mine and others.

But this is life, and mountains, and climate change. And you carry on, and you look for the glimmers.

You stare at photos as if they might be all that’s left, but the truth is they’re just a metaphor for what stirs your heart.

picture of the dog

Rest in peace, dear Tucker.

 

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Falling

September has been full of exploration. Always one of my favorite times of year, this time I’m actually getting outside more than usual. A quick tour:

1. The daily wanderings, around Bozeman. Getting out despite waning daylight, weather, and such.

2. Working on some stories about Yellowstone National Park. A week on horseback in the backcountry.

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