Nature is always hinting at us. It hints over and over again. And suddenly we take the hint.
There never was any heart truly great and generous, that was not also tender and compassionate.
Robert Frost (1874-1963) was an American poet. He was awarded the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry four times (only poet to be so honored). Much of his poetry used rural settings from early 20th century New England.
Looking westward toward southwestern Montana’s Tobacco Root Mountains, with the Madison River flowing through the valley below.
God’s creation under the Big Sky
Treasured landscape covers this vast land
Immense prairies flow into mountains
Few places on earth looking this grand
Rugged backbone of the continent
Chiseled spine of the Rocky Mountains
Stray mountain ranges dotting the plains
Cascading streams flowing as fountains
Three distinct rivers form its headwaters
Mighty, boundless Missouri River
Eastward, collecting the Yellowstone
Precious mountain rains move downriver
White-tail and mule deer camp in thickets
Pronghorns graze in the midst of grasslands
Mountain valleys gather elk and bears
Ducks and geese pilot into wetlands
Frequently titled the Treasure State
Montana shines under its Big Sky
People flocking to witness its gems
You just might meet a Buckeye nearby
Montana’s Yellowstone River continues its eastward journey, eventually flowing into the Missouri River.
I could probably write something about my native state of Montana every day. It will always be a very special place to me. Watch out, you just might run into a Buckeye returning to the Big Sky.
Big Sky Buckeye 