Lay of the Land: A series of essays on the spirit of Montana
I was 17, and it was the final summer before adulthood would crest and flood my carefree world. Just writing this sentence now brings a sigh and a long stare out the window. It’s a sigh filled with more layered emotion than can be sorted out here. It’s a sigh Huck Finn might have managed with his old man’s paunch and gray thinning hair; Huck as a married man, with grown children, looking back on his years along that river. (more…) Continue Reading →
