Sometimes the ordinary would be broken when my mother pointed out the window and exclaimed, "Oh, look. A meadowlark!" She believed that seeing a meadowlark was a gift.

It is February and still these branches are dressed in a flutter of leaves. Golden brown with a dark midrib and branching pinnate veins.

The first archaeological evidence we have that points to organized observances of the winter solstice come from the Neolithic period—that era from about 12,000 to 6,500 years ago which hastened the Stone Age into those of Copper and Bronze

Seasonal camouflage and the consequences of transitioning color phase too early

Near Čmʔomʔotúlexʷ (Place of Smokey Land) or Yellowstone National Park, in -5-degree weather, I kneeled on my freshly skinned bison hide, which provided steaming warmth beneath me.

I like to talk to the crows, though I don’t know what we’re talking about. Researching the subject, I learned that they have over 250 different calls.

Summer brings more than blue skies and hot days to Montana. It’s during this time of the year that white-tailed deer fawns are born.

It was too soon for swirls of cascading autumn leaves, and the formation of this sudden dispatch had a certain energy to it. This orange blast of color moved with purpose.

Harriet the Osprey knew what was coming.

There is a pine needle on my kitchen table. There is a pine needle in my soul. If I could only put that on paper.