Well, we made it back from the edge of the Montana mountains late last night. We were a wagon train of two pickups headed west, our cargo of guitars and sleeping bags, boots and coolers of beer, musicians and friends, a little more dusty than when we arrived in that Montana cow pasture ringing with music on Friday.
It was a long haul. 800 some miles, three small town diner stops,
countless fuel-ups, sunflower seeds and coffee refills and only one “could have been major but actually turned out ok for once” pickup hiccup on the interstate east of Billings, MT.
Because, as Husband says, “It isn’t an adventure until it’s an adventure.”
And so we had one out in White Sulphur Springs, Montana, a bunch of neighbors and friends from the oil fields of North Dakota headed west to hear Merle Haggard sing “Momma Tried” and pick a little themselves on stage and around the campsite at night.
I’m home now with the memory of it turning the corners of my lips up a bit as I unpack and pack my bags again to head east for another gig.
I go to Devils Lake, ND today to sing in a park, but the band will stay home. They have work to do and things to catch up on so I’ll go it alone and that’s alright.
Although it’s always more fun with the boys around.
It’s going to be August in a few days.
August. The last month of summer at the ranch, rolling in with big thunderheads, sunflowers, prairie grass and wheat that turns gold over night.
Summer is fleeting here and I’ve spent this season chasing it–behind my camera, on the highway, on the back of a horse, on the top of a hill, down in the cool draws and behind my computer making plans.
I wish it were longer. Everyone does. But it doesn’t matter really. I’ll think of summer when the snow falls outside my window in December and I won’t think about its lifespan.
I’ll think about the life we put into it.
Because summer means so many things to me, and so I’m happy to be here in it while it lasts…whether it’s picking wild raspberries in a cool draw on our North Dakota ranch
or singing to the wild landscape and wild, wonderful people of Montana!
I’m glad to be home for a minute, and then I’m glad to be on the road.