There are some things that Montana does best. Dark mountains against grey skies is one of those things. For a season in our marriage we lived in on one of the rainiest places on earth. The precipitation is literally measured in feet, not inches. This made sun a rarity and nearly every day was overcast and grey. But it wasn’t the same.
There is something about the silence of Montana mountains. The feel of crisp autumn air on my cheeks, my breath coming out in puffs against the frigid air. Beauty surrounds in those quiet mountains, set against the dark backdrop of the fall sky. It seems so melancholy to be in love with the grey and blue-but there is contrast in that dark on dark that does something to your soul.
Looking out on those silent peaks, you can almost feel the mysteries they have locked inside, just waiting to be whispered out. Tendrils of smoke rise out from lonely cabins and hunting camps. Each adding a new symmetry and shade of grey to the pallet of mountain splendor. But the silence remains. Calling. Beckoning
you to pull on those worn in leather boots and wrap the hand knit scarf round your neck. Those mountains, they beg you to step on their well-worn trails and into the silence. They dare you to unlock their secrets, tucked down deep in the caverns of their beauty.