One of my favorite places in Montana is, well, a place. It’s not a postcard town along the bend of a famous trout fishing river. It’s not a celebrated state or national park. It’s not a panoramic view of an island mountain range erupting from the plains. The place is a particular spot where a gravel road going from nowhere to nowhere plays tag with a creek oxbowing through tall grass.
I drive the road going from
nowhere to nowhere several times each year.
I almost always stop my truck when I reach the point where the creek elbows
directly at the road. Something inside
me needs to walk out and stand beside the creek so I can take in the view, the
sounds, the earthy scents.
Posted are three photographs
from ‘the place.’
Des in the Flowers
.jpg)
The Creek
.jpg)
The Creek
—Mitchell Hegman
No comments:
Post a Comment