I love Montana.
Take away the fact that we had the best tour guides around, an unbelievable place to stay and killer weather, I still love it. If I actually lived there and you asked me how I felt about Montana mid-January, I might have a different answer. But as of now, I am missing Montana almost as much as I missed caffeine when I had to give it up for three months last fall.
Montana has always been a mythical place in my mind. Part of that is due to the fact that my parents met there and I used my malleable imagination from the time I was very small to imagine theirs as a great love story taking place among majestic snow capped mountains and green meadows full of wild flowers. (In actuality I think they met in a bar, but that's beside the point). Movies are the other culprit - you can't watch 'Legends of the Fall' and not want to run away to Montana. The amazing thing about all of this is that Montana wasn't the least bit disappointing. We stayed outside of Livingston, about 30 miles outside of Yellowstone so that the view in every direction was heart-stopping.
My photos do a poor job of really reflecting how beautiful it was there, but I'm fond of a few of them if only because they remind me of how I felt while I was there - completely and utterly at ease with my surroundings.
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