As the summer draws to a close many of us here in Montana are hoping for an end to what has been a very dry few months. There has been no significant rain here since the end of June. July was HOT. Relentlessly hot. August has been clouded in smoke from wildfires all around. Folks in Missoula have been choking in smoke from four fires near by. To the east, where I live, the smoke has drifted into the valleys and hangs in the air like a fart in the elevator. Life here is a daily struggle with watery eyes, sneezing, coughing and your run of the mill discomfort of living down wind of a giant campfire.
As with all things Montana, this will last until you think you are going to pop. And then, like the flip of switch, it will stop. I think I am about to pop.
Many of my friends in other places wonder why I put up with it all. All I can say is it’s home. It’s the place I should have been born, but wasn’t. No fault of my own. I’m just glad I found it, even if it was a bit late. Better late than never, eh?