It seems like something out of a science fiction novel, doesn’t it? For the month of August I camped in several national forests and Glacier National Park. On my first night in the mountains, I was treated to a spectacular sunset. Many of the clouds took on vivid colors, and even the rain came down pink. I’d never seen this phenomenon before and was mesmerized by the beauty.

OK, so maybe there’s a touch of orange and red in there too. But pink is close.

So why spend all that time in the wilderness, tossing and turning in a tent as all kinds of critters patter by in the night? For scenes like this, of course. This is an area I visit every year. I’ve been tempted to reveal the location, but there are people I know who would kill me (and people I don’t know) if I gave it away. I can say the area is in Montana, and it’s where the first group of mountains rise above the prairie coming from the east. There are several ranges here, one of them a distinct “island range”. We’re looking south in the image towards Yellowstone, as this is part of the eighteen million acre Greater Yellowstone Ecosystem.

As spectacular as the view was, the aural experience was just as good…the rustling cottonwoods, the faint chewing and hoofing of horses in a nearby pasture, the whisper of a fast-moving river in the distance. But sometimes what is left out is most important of all. And in this case it was the absence of motors. Airplanes, cars, motorcycles, lawnmowers, weedwackers, gone. You don’t notice how dominating those noises are until they’re removed.

Eventually the storm drifted east over the prairie, losing its colors. There’s something about light in the mountains. It’s cleaner, more vibrant, even restless. I wasn’t surprised as it faded above the flatlands. There’s magic in the wilderness and those peaks, enough for clouds to absorb when they pass over.