I’ve often found it easy to wax poetic about the mountains of home in western Montana. I’ve always referred to them as the supermodel of landscapes, so easy to admire with their grandiose perfection in almost every season, the clearest of streams that flow with force and clarity revealing colorful stones that tell of it’s geological history and beauty, high alpine basins that offer refuge to an abundance of wildlife, and coniferous trees of every variety. The mountains of Montana always seem easy to love and admire and to put on a pedestal.
But Montana has a hidden gem and a rare beauty in her sunlit plains and prairies. Spring on the prairies is tough to beat. And it’s never prettier than during branding season. Maybe it’s the sight of cattle dotted across the greening landscape and rolling hills. Maybe it’s the people that gather to work and lend a hand. Maybe it’s fresh backed horses. Maybe it’s the culmination of it all. It’s romantic and darned beautiful.
Because there’s something to be said for a place that doesn’t have all the rough ridden off it yet, or a horse with a little edge left to him. There’s something to be said for old saddles and pick up trucks and trailers with rust and dents. There’s something to be said where life ain’t always shiny and everything is brand new. There’s something to be said for the cowboy running irons and working stock, and old corrals that need mending. There’s something to be said for the hands that work in a place just like this. A place where you can look for miles upon sagebrush miles of coulees and breaks, and not see another soul. A place where the sky is so big and blue and wide, where a man can cuss and air out both lungs, but can talk to God and thank him for the things he has. A place where life just makes a little more sense; in it’s simplest and purest form dressed down in hard work and sweat. There’s something to be said for a place that doesn’t have all the rough ridden off it yet.
May your spring be filled with new adventures and happy hearts.