Tuesday, November 8, 2011


Life happens everyday and then, suddenly, life happens just a bit too much.  And when it does that, it tends to throw you for a loop.  You either get really inspired or, in my case, the flame of inspiration is but a slight flicker.  But you get it back.  You always get it back if you try hard enough.
So, as I was driving home and noticing the full moon high overhead and the snow in the road ditches, I was reminded of the night when Danish Cowboy and I were still but a dating couple, driving down the three mile gravel road in to our home, and he shut off the headlights.  Imagine the panic I felt, you city friends of mine.  You know the feeling of dread when you see someone leaving the McDonald's parking lot without their headlights on, with only the city lights to guide them.  You know that there is a good chance it will not end well.  Then imagine my fear as we are in the middle of nowhere, no city lights to guide us and the headlights are suddenly removed.

You quickly realize, though, that winter on the northern prairie has some fringe benefits, the most intriguing of which is the sight of moonlight dancing on the snow drifts as they slowly wind across the hills in the wind.  Yes, you can see forever out here.  And in the winter, with a full moon overhead and snow blanketing our land, you can see forever in the middle of the night when you take in to account the power of light reflection.

It was nine years ago that he tried this trick out on me.  I haven't forgotten it since.  I once tried it on a major highway as I was traveling back to Missoula on a moonlit night.  I was passing from the prairies to the peaks, in an area known as the Rocky Mountain Front and I turned the headlights off.  Have you seen the silhouettes of mountains in the moonlight?  Do you know the power that they can exert on you?
I tried it again tonight on my way home.  The blanket of snow was still minimal as winter is still arriving and the stonewashed appearance of the sky gave me but a brief glimpse of the full moon and I'm sure the neighbors were yet again wondering what the weird east coast girl was up to, but it still worked.  The magic still happened.  And, finally, inspiration came back.  I am so glad that it did.

1 comment:

  1. ...and we're so glad, too.