Ice in the Veins

As the light begins to tilt toward shorter nights, colder days and the inevitable bundling up and pulling close that is winter, Seth's attention turns to the thin slip of canyon behind our house in Arlee, Montana. I find him staring at it, arms crossed, from our backyard. As usual, I once again fall for his invitation to go for a hike past the rock walls there. We walk—each of us carrying one of our young daughters—and I notice the ponderosas that I can't wrap my arms around, how they smell like vanilla and how beautiful Eliza, our three-year-old, looks with the forest framing her sweet face.

Seth, on the other hand, is on a scouting mission. When we stop he pulls out his camera. I wait in the same boulder field where I wait every year while he takes pictures of the forming ice. [Read More]