What a wondrous day! In the midst of our grief and sadness over the death of our "Third Musketeer" -- our 20-year-old cat Leesha who traveled with us everywhere -- we found beauty and comfort as we continued this journey with Leesha's spirit.
We arrived to visit dear friends Randy and Sue in Lakeside, Montana, on Sunday, 19 Sept. We drove to Lakeside through the misty wet forests full of clouds, and a rainbow appeared over Flathead Lake. And then another, and each had a double! Four rainbows appearing and disappearing and reappearing in the mist. Rainbows touching Earth in the forest, on the shore, and even out in the lake. "Leesha," we said to each other. "She loved visiting up here."
That evening her spirit greeted us full force when we opened the cabin door at our friends' house. Leesha on the bed, Leesha on the carpet in front of the big window, Leesha playing with the toy our lovely hostess always had ready for her. Her joy was palpable, and we couldn't help but smile through our tears.
We saw a rainbow over the lake every day we were in Lakeside!
The morning of the 22nd was still rainy and misty when we departed Lakeside after a great visit with our friends. We concluded that our planned trip to Glacier Park had been rejected by the travel spirits who had socked in the peaks for the duration. We headed to the east side of Flathead Lake and south to the Swan River National Wildlife Refuge.
The foliage along the road was just coming into the peak of its color.
Brian stopped to take some lily pad photos in one of the flows that wanders through the grassy swampland.
I was walking back down the road when a load croak startled me. I looked back just in time to see a great blue heron land on the top branch of a swaying tree. Brian heard it too and had his camera ready for touch down.
What a magnificent bird -- and my totem. Herons represent self-reliance, exploration, and all aspects of diversity. A powerful reminder that I can weather this storm of grief and stay balanced and self-reliant. Thank you, Leesha girl, for that message.
We watched until the heron decided it was time to forage. It glided out of the tree, swooped low in front of us and landed in the swamp out of sight. Beware, you little frogs and fishes!
From the refuge we drove along the Swan Range which forms the western boundary of the Bob Marshall Wilderness. The very tops of the peaks were already frosted with a dusting of fresh snow. We were surprised to learn that the small pockets of snow lower down on the mountains are glaciers.
The Seeley-Swan Valley is a long glacial valley that holds a string of eight larger and a number of smaller pocket lakes left after the glaciers melted. The lakes are connected by Clearwater river and the Swan river, depending on which end of the 80-mile-long valley they inhabit.
We took Porcupine Road off US 83 that leads west through the woods to the Swan River. All along the way, the fall colors were starting to find their way down from the trees and into the ground covers as well. 392 acres of this area is the Nature Conservancy Swan River Oxbow Preserve.
This is an area supports an amazing variety of wetland communities: spruce forest on the southern boundary, sedge fen and birch carr adjacent to the spring water system, cottonwood forest to the west, and a marsh to the northwest. There are five rare plant populations and two rare lichens within the Preserve.
US 83 south through the Seeley-Swan Valley "T"s into MT 200. We decided to take that route west to Missoula with the idea we'd go south out of Missoula into Hamilton and then over Skalkaho Pass and back to Bozeman. But we got sidetracked by a BLM gravel road that branched off MT 200 soon after we turned west.
That gravel road followed the Blackfoot River, the river immortalized in "A River Runs Through It" by Norman MacLean.
And what a reward! Now the weather was sunny and warm, and the sky clear high-altitude blue. At the campground, I walked in the warm sand along the river bank. Water-tumbled green and red mudstone bore witness to the river's passages through the seasons. I gathered a few for our yard -- rippled and gouged, rounded and scooped.
Then I found a large feather -- eagle or osprey. Feathers have been very special signs for me since my late husband Mark died six years ago. He left me (and my friends) many in the months after he died. Now he leaves them on special occasions. Like this one.
I picked up the feather thinking to take it home. But as soon as I touched it -- long and smooth and grey -- I knew I had to put it in the water. Leesha's spirit was very close, riding on the feather.
I found a long thin stick, silky smooth from tumbling and soaking in the river. The perfect tool to help the feather along as it surfed from the edge of the river toward the main current. Gently I pushed the feather out of the bank algae and away from the rocks.
On and on it floated in the gentle side current. I watched until I could see it no longer. And then I threw the stick into the current and watched its whiteness as it bobbed downstream.
And I cried as I rejoiced. Rejoiced that I was able to send Leesha on this spiritual journey in the heart of such beautiful wild country. We did what those who are left behind do -- we provided what assistance we could for the spirit on its continuing journey.
The low angle fall sun illuminated the Blackfoot and the surrounding forest, shining into and through the world instead of pounding down from above. The water gleamed; the aspen leaves glowed. I always missed fall in the North when I lived in California, Texas, and Germany.
At a picture-taking stop further down the canyon, I walked along the road, steep canyon wall on one side and the river down below on the other. I wondered if I would see Leesha's feather float by.
Then, with a harsh cry, an osprey flew along the river.
It banked and flew back toward me, circling overhead and seeming to look me right in the eye. One circle and it was gone downriver. Ospreys -- freedom of spirit and keen sight to see through illusions. My Leesha girl was truly in good hands now with such a spirit guide.
We continued down river amid a spectacular display of the river canyon and fall colors.
At one point we watched two fishing drift boats float by. Their peaceful progress was in stark contrast to happenings on the river in days of yore when tens of thousands of logs taken from the Swan Valley were sent down the river to a mill in Bonner -- now part of a massive Superfund cleanup that included removing a dam from the Clark Fork River along Interstate 90.
We followed the Blackfoot all the way to the intersection of our gravel road and MT 200 and then drove into Missoula. We had plain ran out of daylight for our Skalkaho Pass plan, so we opted for a trip to Rock Creek off Interstate 90 and dinner at Eckstrom's Stage Stop.
This is an old stage station moved and meticulously reassembled into an artist's studio and outstanding home-cookin' restaurant, replete with stuffed animal heads and all manner of gear from yesteryear. Home made everything right down to the pickled beets on the salad bar. It's one of Brian's long-time favorite dinner spots in Montana.
When we finished dinner (with almost mandatory "to go" boxes) it was close to sunset. As we drove out of Rock Creek, we crossed the Clark Fork just as the sun was hitting it with last light.
As we drove east toward Bozeman, the sunset exploded behind us near Deer Lodge. We watched in the rear view mirror as the sun sent shafts of red light outward. At the same time, the moon was rising to our right. We pulled up on an overpass and watched the end of day.
As the sunset faded, a Fire Bird appeared in the afterglow, for us, another sign that Furry Purry was okay and on her new journey.
So we ended the day with our heads full of sun, wind, water, totems, and a little cat's journey to bardo.
Louise with Photos by Brian
Text and Photos copyright Goin Mobyle LLC 2010
Slough and Cottage in the Mist
Mushroom on a Wet Stump End- Mushroom on a Wet Stump End
Road to Swan Lake Preserve
Multicolored Fall Fest
Yellow Leaves Near An Aspen Trunk
Lily Pad Dons Autumn Shades
Heron Alights
Heron Swoop
Swan Peak and Ridge
Snow Dusting on Swan Range Peak
Lake in the Seeley Swan Valley
Fall Fern Foliage along the Swan
Fisherman on Swan River in the Mist
Squirrel Getting Ready for Winter Near Seeley Lake
On the Banks of the Blackfoot
Feather Starts Its Journey
Feather Floats On
Low Light and Fall Color along the Blackfoot
Osprey over the Blackfoot
Osprey Silouette Over the River
Blackfoot River Canyon
Red Staghorn Sumac and Yellow Dogbane on Rock Slide
Red Blotched Leaf
Drift Boat on the Blackfoot
Flower Wagon Outside the Stage Stop
Last Light on the Clark Fork
Sunset Near Deer Lodge
Afterglow Fire Bird in the Western Sky
Cloud Swept Moon Rise Over Deer Lodge
Woods Reflect in Foggy Slough