I’m tired, so this is going to be short. Spencer says I should start calling you “my lovelies” and my blog will go viral (this is what all the posh blogger ladies do, right?). But I am not very posh and I don’t want to be associated with viruses.
Utah going north from SLC towards Idaho is very lovely in winter.
Idaho, going north up from SLC and towards Montana, is very lovely in winter.
But Montana surpasses them both, and any other state in the West, for breathtaking beauty and purity of air and a general cleanliness of horizon that has been lost everywhere else I have been. Something I can’t put my finger on. I saw a herd of bison on a ranch. They were darker and larger than the cattle nearby. They looked like something from another time, from before we were quite so ready to dabble in everything we touch–maybe a time when it was understood that some things are beyond us; that praying for rain earnestly can bring rain. That some things can and should be sacred. That is sort of how the landscape is here. Still unburdened by “improvement” and “civilization” for the most part. My pictures do it a horrible injustice.