One day it’s the way the river gleams silver and blue under fluffy cotton clouds. Another it’s the gray-blue and pearlescent pink sunset in a liquid sky as we head towards Bozeman.
The mountain air doesn’t just soothe. It restores. It reminds me that my nervous system was not designed for 24/7 notifications and five-lane traffic. It was meant for wind in the pines, the rustle of wildlife in the brush, the surprise of an owl in daylight.
