The Little Big Horn River wends it way through grassy knolls and rolling hills. Great expanses of blue sky dome the coulees and valley on either side of the river. Heat mirages wavers in the air. Herds of sun soaked wild horses wander among the grass meadows. Horse flies buzz and rattle snakes rattle in the symphony of the great plains. Mingled in the air, faint wafts of sweet grass and sage brush and horse manure.
A herd of wild horses graze the great plains of Little Big Horn National Monument.
Tombstones, cairns, and markers speckle the hillsides and valleys. Monuments to the fallen.
A monument to the animals who served.
One such monument to the horses lost in the Battle of Little Big Horn. Their riders used their bodies like shields from the overwhelming volley of ammunition from the native Americans defending their way of life.
A monument in motion.
The memorial, “Peace Through Unity” sitting atop a hill traces three warriors, representing the three tribes. The ever changing sky, a back drop representing the home of the Spirit. The Lakota (Sioux), Cheyenne, and Arapaho lead by Sitting Bull won the battle but forever lost their nomadic culture, lost their self-sufficiency, lost their war.
Large snowflakes danced in the air, landed on fir branches and the green and golden aspen leaves. A snug September quilt.
September snow in the Canadian Rockies.
Kananaskis Country, nestled in the front range of the Canadian Rockies due west of Calgary. Near Nakiska, the site of the 1988 Winter Olympics for alpine and cross-country skiing. It’s now part of the Alberta provincial park system.
Kananaskis Lodge near Nakiska, Alberta.
Thin clouds filtered the sunset over a canal in Kyoto, Japan. Water gurgled under the foot bridge. The cool air drifted across the water and carried the fragrance of cherry blossoms.
My mother always told me I looked at the world through rose-colored lenses. I purchased a pair of rose colored sunglasses and used them for this photo so she could see the world as I did.
Kyoto through a rose-colored lens.
A stroll along the Walk of the Philosophers, in April, blooms with inspiration.
Kyoto’s Walk of the Philosophers inspired this.
And the Japanese equivalent to the Miracle on 34th Street . . .an empty train car in the late afternoon. A miracle indeed.
An empty train car in Kobe, Japan during the late afternoon, priceless.
The sun blazed fiery reds and oranges across the evening clouds over the Puget Sound on that Saturday evening in August. A cool breeze blew across the water, taking the edge off the day’s heat. Seattle’s buzzing faded with the sun.
Earlier in the day, my husband and I built a snug oasis on the deck of our apartment. A retreat with a small fountain burbling in the corner. We celebrated the enchantment of the evening by blowing soap bubbles from the balcony.
A place to savor the moments.
Several of the neighbors and their children gathered in the parking lot below. Bubbles descended like snowflakes. Adults leaped in the air popping bubbles. Children giggled and clapped and chased bubbles too.
The memory of a sunset.
Accidental encounters . . .
Some friends of ours visited from the Midwest a few years ago. One of them never experienced wild life beyond citified raccoons.
We put them in the car and moseyed two states over and visited Yellowstone National Park.
Among the varied scenery, a faint to strong smell of sulfur and scattered bears, multitudes of birds and buffalo, we followed a short path to a picnic area. A herd of elk got there before us.
A neighborly bull elk in Yellowstone National Park, near sunset.
I snapped this beauty of a bull wandering nearby before we gently backed out of the area—there were calves in the herd.
Traveling back in time a few years, my father lived with us for a few years. While entertaining some friends at Mount Rainier, my father shared a story about the many animals in the area. He held a bit of protein bar in his hand he had not yet finished.
He reached the climax of his story and waved his hand out in front of him. An alert gray jay swooped down from a tree and helped himself to the last of the protein bar. Our friends dove for cover.
The intended photo of my father and our friends.
A Gray Jay swoops in for a free meal.
Accidental encounters? Happy accidents? Lucky shots? Either way I’m glad I caught them.
The Pandora in my mind played Nenah Cherry’s Buffalo Stance this week to the point of distraction. It took an actual America Buffalo to distract her.
This beauty stands taller than the hood of our F150. It walked in front of our truck for greener grasses.
Which leads to this week’s post. February 20th is only 4 days away. The day after everyone with a New Year’s Resolution flees the gym. If I start now, I’ll be able to beat feet faster than this snail scaled this leaf—back to the gym.
This snail scaled an enormous Betty White rose bush to reach this leaf. Now that’s inspiring.
February 20th, I love you!
Like I said, a snail not a buffalo.
And if you’ve never heard Nina Cherry’s Buffalo Stance, we’ll dance our way out this week in ’80’s style. Take it away Nina . . .
Have a great weekend everyone.