As I sit on my back porch in Missoula tonight, I can hear the wild things off in the distance beyond the sound of traffic and the bustling of people (even at this early hour of 1 am)... It is a pack of coyotes near Blue Mountain.
I see the lights of the neighbor's houses and as I sit here among all the things I recognize as the sounds of 'home'. I realize there is a new place that my heart now longs for.
I close my eyes and I can remember vividly the sound of silence. The deafening sound of silence that only happens when I am deeply in tune with nature... A place I have spent the week. A place much farther north than my northern Montana home or my native Maine....Alberta.
A full moon, a sky full of stars, a multicolored sunrise over a mountainless horizon, thick hoar frost, tell tale tracks in a new fallen snow, a flock of geese,...the crackle of a warm fire and the shuffling of cards....belly laughs...and...a full soul.
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