Moving to Montana for the Winter, or: Frozen, the Remake

Since I left France, I’ve flown across continents, fallen out of a summer job and into a writing career (or at least, a job that I really loved) and right out the other side into moderate unemployment when the company I worked for went on hiatus, out of my parents’ house and into a more-mine spot in the wilderness of Montana. Whew. A whirlwind of a six months. (Six months!? How did that happen so fast?)

If moving to Montana isn’t adventure travel, I don’t know what is. Chopping firewood, climbing around on mountains and in valleys that even my Kiwi friend says look straight out of Lord of the Rings. Driving in snow (gulp). I haven’t seen any bears yet, but I’m hopeful that they’ll pop their heads out before hibernation season hits. Although, since fall’s not even over yet and it’s already started snowing, this little Pacific Northwestern girl doesn’t know which way is up when winter strikes before Thanksgiving.

I’ve gotten to a point when moving means travel for me. That’s the way I like to do it, what can I say? I’d rather set up shop for seven or eight months than live out of a suitcase for a year, and it’s hard to top an in-depth look at a place like this:

 

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Also, this:

 

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Does white balance even matter in a situation like this? I don’t think so.

The boyfriend and I are hanging out on his childhood property, right where he grew up, in a brand spanking new house that his brother built for vacation rentals (strangely, not a huge demand for that during the winter. I wonder why?). It’s far more luxurious living than I had expected at this stage in my life, but hey, I’m not complaining.

It’s odd to say I’ve left home when I actually feel pretty darn at home in the woods here, just across the highway from the train tracks, sandwiched between the Great Bear Wilderness and Glacier National Park.

And to those who scoff when I say I’m moving to Montana for the winter, we’ll see who’s laughing in May.

 

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It will probably be you. I will probably be frozen in a snow bank.

 

As I’ve been writing, I’ve realized there isn’t much of a direction to this, but rather it’s a thinly-veiled excuse to show off some pretty great cell phone photos, if I do say so myself. I’m working on a “photography” project, taking a photo of the hills behind the house from the same spot each morning to watch the seasons change. Sometimes I cheat and take two in a morning, because the clouds do something exciting or the sun decides to show itself.

Here’s a sampling, and be sure to stay warm!

 

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