One of the best things about living in Montana is that to get from, say, Point “A” to Point “B,” you must drive through Montana. Yesterday, Desiree and I drove from our house near Helena (Point A) to Kalispell (Point B) by way of the Seeley-Swan Valley. The first leg pulled us close to the Blackfoot River and twisted us alongside it. The second funneled us between the toothy, eager Mission Mountains and the chevron peaks of the Swan Range. Tall tamaracks marched beside us for miles, while lakes flashed into view when allowed.
The leafy trees and bushes are just
now flushing color through their skirts, and the tamaracks are only beginning
their fall wear. Desiree is especially enamored with autumn colors, which don’t
exist in her faraway tropical home.
The cottonwoods along the Blackfoot
glowed half-neon yellow in the new light of our early-morning drive. I stopped
at a turnout atop a prow of earth and stone so Desiree and I could pile out and
bracket a few photographs.
—Mitchell Hegman
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