Dear friend, As I write this, we’ve gotten eight inches of snow, and it’s dropped from 40 degrees to -2 degrees overnight. Winter is not yet releasing her grip from Montana. I, for one, couldn’t be happier that she’s reasserting her rightful place. I wasn’t ready for winter to turn into spring just yet. I love the changing of the seasons when the time is right, but I need one more day spent tucked under a blanket in front of the fireplace with a book and a journal. Winter offers a glimpse into the power of freezing air and the small moments that dare defy it. This being my third winter in Montana, I’m still in awe of it.
The sensory descriptions of everything throughout the flow of this post had me hooked.
"I felt like a pagan as I watched the milky steam float off the surface to meet the falling snowflakes."
brought me straight to watching those spirits float off the clark fork in winter. so good man