A Montana Journal, ca. May 2021 


We was up on the Rock Creek over in them Sapphire Mountains these few days past. The water was coming up high and fast with the thaw. Caught a few nice trout, though. And the beauty of the Great Creator’s playful hand on them mountains and trees, rivers and rocks were abundant. 


Of course them things do possess no awareness at all of my presence there or, for that matter, of my very being. They hold no rage, no grievance, no demand that a person pick side or proffer opinion. It is good enough to merely take up one’s own bit of space and quietly be, and that is a rare and cherished comfort in these times.


I have not died today. And that is a fine thing. Yours truly…

 





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