Meander Inn Musings- September 20, 2013
Montana Mornings:
I awake every morning before dawn. The air is cool and grey- almost ladled over the landscape. The September sun does not burst forth in flame in this wonderful house of Big Sky Country. Instead, the sun kindles its’ way from night towards morning by slow degrees. The days are warm and the nights are cool with rain. As the sun finally pierces through the morning, all of creation seems to feed deeply on the marriage of water and sunlight. Instinctively, the trees and grasses, the wildlife and livestock, and even human beings seem to imbibe this quickening of life- for Winter is near and long.
A Gray Jay (AKA Camp Robber) lands at the end of the wooden picnic table no less than six feet from me, my coffee and my morning snack. Although I heard that he does not like cities or congested dwelling places, he does not fear humans- it seems a matter of taste. Gray Jay looks for morsels of food that he will place in crevices of tree and rock sealing the nourishment with the fluid from aside his black beak. You see, he will winter here in this place while many other faint-hearted flocks fly south. When winter comes hard upon this place, he will remember his treasures and will feast.
I, also, join the landscape of tree, grass, wildlife, and livestock on these Montana Mornings at Meander Inn- Drinking deeply of this quickening of life as the sun kindles its’ way from night into day. I, also, with the Gray Jay, place memories like food into the crevices of my mind. The jeweled small lakes with names like Rainey and Clearwater nestled close to the rising Rockies, the expanse of sky, and the rivers and creeks that flow through it all is placed in the crevice of my soul. Because soon, all too soon, I will return to a place of Winter. This is not just the season of nature which lasts only months, but the winter that comes in our lives and our communities when change is in the wind- when some things must die for new birth. This winter has been one year long with months yet to come until the season is over. Yet, now I feel nourished enough for one more search for Spring.
What a wonderful place to live… Big sky country with mountains and streams. I just took a trip to Arizona and experienced a bit of that country around Flagstaff.
My recollection of gray jays was a long time ago in Yellowstone when my grandmother and I were trying to have lunch. Between the ground squirrels climbing the picnic table and the Jays swooping down, our lunch was one of trying to grab and save our sandwiches before a critter got them. At least the bear we saw at the entrance to the picnic area did not decide to come and join us at the table.
May you have many more Montana mornings to savor. Wish I was there with you… Even in winter.
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