This mammoth black bear surprised me while I was busy taking a landscape image in the other direction. Of course, it wasn’t the bear’s fault. I was down wind, and not making noise. As visitors to the bear’s home, we must be aware at all times. Fortunately I had my telephoto lens and was able to grab a crisp shot.
Filmed in Glacier National Park.
I need to get back to this river. As much as I like Montana west of the divide, my heart is in the Gallatin National Forest. I first discovered this amazing spot in 2001, and have tried to make it back every year since.
And big thanks to my grandfather, who got me hooked on fly fishing. When I was 19 or so he took me into a fancy sporting goods place in St. Charles, and bought me a Sage fly rod. That’s a pretty sweet fly rod for a beginner.
Certain places remain in your blood…the sense of land, of place. Palpable, forever.
in 2010, I made my first trip to the Pacific Northwest. I left Missoula at sunrise, and drove across the Oregon desert. As the sun set and I approached the remote Winema National Forest, I swore I could taste the Pacific Ocean in the air despite being a long way from the coast. I remember only seeing a few cars that day, out of hundreds of miles. While I drove, I played this song. A lot.
“Song Among the Pine” was written by an artist called Gravenhurst (multi-instrumentalist Nicholas John Talbot). The album “The Western Lands” soon became one of my favorites after that trip. So much so I even recommended “Song Among the Pine” for THE PULLER movie.
Sadly, I just found out that Nicholas John Talbot passed away in December of 2014. So I’ve been playing this album all week, thinking about how much his music moved me artistically. Thanks for the inspiration, Nicholas.
Song among the pine
Cones and needles lie atop the dark soil
They will come for me
With searchlights streaming through the cedar trees
Cold ash smother the fire
Cold ash smother the fire
The ripple of the stream
Is just one way the forest speaks to me
The anger in the streets
Is just the way a broken city breathes
I’m a big moose fan. So much so, I hide in forests for days waiting to take pictures of them. I also put moose in my stories (most notably THE PULLER).
And speaking of THE PULLER, I just wrapped up the screenplay. There are most certainly moose. 😉
I moved to Montana three years ago, because I liked the shoulder room. The state is full of big scenery, especially in places like Glacier National Park and Yellowstone. I enjoy the slower paced nature of the towns, the friendly people, and the balanced array of flora and fauna. It has a centering effect on me, and I felt it the first time I crossed the state line in 2001.
But strangely, it’s the smaller places that I chase in my photography and writing-the places avoided by tourists. These are overlooked and passed on the highway on the way to Glacier, on the way to Flathead Lake. Even now, sitting in my house and hunkered down for the winter working on a screenplay and new novel, they call to me. And sometimes, knowing they’re out there waiting, is enough.
