Into the Big Valley

Yesterday afternoon, after a long day of work, I drove two-hundred miles from Kalispell to my home.  I drove through the Swan Valley alongside the frozen lakes linking through the forested swales, often the only car on the road for miles.  The snow alongside the highway was three or four feet high but melting fast.  The Swan Mountains stood sharp and white against the sky.  I had to stop once just so I could stare at the chevron peaks for a while in admiration.  “That snow is a good look on you,” I told them.

I really enjoyed the drive.  At times, I turned up the music on my CD player and sang with stupid abandon.  I saw sun-glowing elk on an open hillside and a string of sleek whitetail deer crossing the ice at Salmon Lake.

The sun settled beyond a distant gunsight pass just as I emerged from the final knot of mountains and found myself entering the big valley in which I live.  The quality of light, the muted colors, the clarity of view, the network patches of snow—everything struck me as perfectly serene once the highway stretched out straight in front of me. 

I stopped once again so that I could go stand by a fence and look out upon the place I call home.  I am posting two photographs from that last stop.  They are not particularly beautiful in any regard, but they “feel” good to me.

 

 

--Mitchell Hegman