august and i flew out to montana to meet up with andy who was already out there visiting his family. his parents recently bought a home outside of bozeman and it has given us all a great excuse to vacation there. growing up, my family did the same. we spent many christmas' with relatives in my mother's home country, bolivia. the rocky mountain landscape of the western u.s. reminds me a lot of it. the bright sun, the dry air, the expansive blue sky and the jagged peaks that cut right into it. one of bolivia's most revered landmarks is illimani. it stands magnificently tall and towers over la paz, dominating the city's skyline. those were the first peaks i ever saw and aside from a brief stint in colorado, they were my only real exposure to mountains. even though i've lived most my life on the east coast, i feel extremely connected to the mountains. something about them makes me feel at home. they fill the deepest parts of my soul and pull at it in heartbreaking ways, conflicting ways. like i know it's where i belong, but there's such an enormity to them that also feels a bit overwhelming, like i could get swallowed up in that blue. anyway, without getting too much more into it and before i get excessively poetic, ON TO THE PHOTO PORTION OF THIS POST!
did you ever notice how it's easier to wake up early when you're on vacation? well andy and i couldn't stop remarking about it last week when we were in montana. even with august's 6:30 am wake up call (which he faithfully kept despite the two-hour time change - my boy!), getting up wasn't as rough as it usually is when we're back at home. maybe it was the beautiful sunrises, or the possibility of mid-day naps, or the promise of a freshly brewed pot of coffee, but i actually anticipated those early hours when we'd bundle up, step out into the cool september morning, and watch the fog lift off the purple mountains. each morning the sun would slowly come up over the ridge and illuminate the horizon with the hopeful pastels of a new day with nothing on the itinerary.
this week sure is going to be an adjustment getting back into routine. thank goodness there's still promise of coffee in the morning.
last night i watched the the full moon rise over the ridge. there was a slight wind blowing in the aspen trees and their leaves softly clapped. to me, it sounded as though they were applauding the her grand entrance. i make no pretense about my fascination with the moon; her tidal force pulls at my soul and it is never stronger than in september when she assumes the title of harvest moon. even though the equinox on the 22nd marks the first official day of fall, it is the harvest moon that ushers the season in for me. i love the summer with its long days and warm nights, set to the song of the cicada. but i come alive in the fall. autumn is my season and october is my month. remarkable things always happen in the fall: birthdays, anniversaries, and inspiring feats of endurance. but more than the celebrations and festivals, the costumes and candy is the diffused grey of a low hanging fog, the swirl of leaves at your feet, and the earthy bounties. yes, autumn is my season.