The Third Month

GT on Rock Creek

         bending bamboo
                  below snow patches
                           in shadow

         Last night I noticed the nubs of the first Daffodil shoots emerging in the backyard. Over many years I used to take photos of their progress during this early period, including when they stoutly withstood the blankets of snow that frequented the months of March and April; once the first patch bloomed (there are many patches throughout the yard), I typically posted a photo and something like “and the blooms are on…” or “forth they burst” followed by Wordsworth’s ‘I wandered lonely as a Cloud,’ one of my favorite poems. I had to give it up in the last five years or so though, as only the surrounding neighbors’ Daffodils have bloomed while we’ve had simply the protruding green shoots. The Glacier Lilies always seem to come through, however, spreading their lovely yellow hue throughout the surrounding mountains and river bottoms. This reality, symbolism at its best, gives me hope in nature’s ability to retain some level of relevance in the modern era. In Montana there are countless wildflowers to view in May and June, spring being a special time of year for such activity.

         the Third Month-
                  a ghostly Heron probes icy pools
                           Robins resting in a Willow

         During the unseasonable weather, I’ve made it out to the local streams a few times with the kids and occasionally a rod. Caution has been somewhat exercised with the dog given the cold water this time of year, particularly in the Blackfoot and Rock Creek. The back channels along the Bitterroot have been a warmer option for Ajax (almost five months old now) to slowly begin to acclimate. It seems strange to worry about such things with a dog that has such a heavy coat, but pups get spooked from large bodies of water, particularly if the water is frigid.Spurgin Lambs

         late winter grass
                  fences and light rain
                           ewes’ lambs

         I took a photo with the phone of a resident’s field after pulling out of the Kelly Island area. This was not too long ago. I enjoy watching the wary lambs this time of year, another simple pleasure sometimes taken for granted.
         The rivers are slightly up and chalky at the moment, although things have cooled a bit during the evenings again and it’s not been raining quite as much. There’s been no cross country skiing to speak of, though the kids are talking about maybe getting in a little downhill while there’s still the option available. I’ve not had much to write about lately, so it’s been pretty quiet. I’ve spent a little time in the UM gym to attempt to maintain some level of fitness and picked back up writing a book. I’ve compiled four or five chapters thus far, but it’s been touch and go as the enthusiasm has been a little off. I’ll call it the mid-winter doldrums. One’s principal occupation takes priority, though the financial world today is a circus. It’s cabbage and potato soup for dinner tonight. Maybe I’ll throw in some dried cranberries.

         pale cold waders
                  unwilling to ford
                           the Bitterroot

Bitterroot 2.28.16

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