mountain towns

when i think of mountain towns, i picture a quiet urban center nestled in the rugged scene of a sprawling panorama. craggy mountains with jutting peaks serve as the original skyline to small cities of the west. but their beauty isn’t just natural. hidden in remote locations, many mountain towns have been able to maintain their authentic architectural integrity and history. from ghost signs to neon americana, mountain towns are as mysterious as they are romantic. i wonder what it must've been like as a passenger on the old northern pacific railway. dozens of mountain towns dotted the route from st. paul to seattle, each of them with their own bright stip to allure new guests. the conductor would announce the next stop and weary travelers would peak out the windows to see the distant orange phosphorescence of the next stop. would the curiosity be enough to attract me to stop over or maybe even change my destination? they may not have the bustling pace of larger urban cities, but they buzz with the same electric energy. and when sky blue deepens to indigo and darkness has swallowed the soaring mountains that in the light of day seemed unconquerable, the sun's glow is replaced by the light of vintage neon signs.

p.s. you should visit oftreesandhues and taravictoria for more beautiful perspectives on urban sights

in the mountains

last week, august and i flew out to montana to meet up with andy who was already out there visiting his family. his parents recently bought a home outside of bozeman and it has given us all a great excuse to vacation there. growing up, my family did the same.  we spent many christmas' with relatives in my mother's home country, bolivia. the rocky mountain landscape of the western u.s. reminds me a lot of it. the bright sun, the dry air, the expansive blue sky and the jagged peaks that cut right into it. one of bolivia's most revered landmarks is illimani. it stands magnificently tall and towers over la paz, dominating the city's skyline. those were the first peaks i ever saw and aside from a brief stint in colorado, they were my only real exposure to mountains. even though i've lived most my life on the east coast, i feel extremely connected to the mountains. something about them makes me feel at home. they fill the deepest parts of my soul and pull at it in heartbreaking ways, conflicting ways. like i know it's where i belong, but there's such an enormity to them that also feels a bit overwhelming. anyway, without getting too much more into it or before i get excessively poetic, ONWARD TO THE PHOTO PORTION OF THIS POST!

september morning

did you ever notice how it's easier to wake up early when you're on vacation? well andy and i couldn't stop remarking about it last week when we were in montana. even with august's 6:30 am wake up call (which he faithfully kept despite the two-hour time change - my boy!), getting up wasn't as rough as it usually is when we're back at home. maybe it was the beautiful sunrises, or the possibility of mid-day naps, or the promise of a freshly brewed pot of coffee, but i actually anticipated those early hours when we'd bundle up, step out into the cool september morning, and watch the fog lift off the purple mountains. each morning the sun would slowly come up over the ridge and illuminate the horizon with the hopeful pastels of a new day with nothing on the itinerary. 

this week sure is going to be an adjustment getting back into routine. thank goodness there's still promise of coffee in the morning.

we made it!

traveling with a toddler is very different from traveling with a baby. the last time august was on a plane, he was just a couple of months old and about half the size he is now. he also spent the better part of his days sleeping. now, not only is he bigger, but he is decidedly more conscious. and by conscious i mean aware, active, and very curious. combine those with the minimal leg room and cramped seats of a fully booked plane and you'll understand why i was terrified of traveling accross the country with my son.

those fears were nearly confirmed not thirty minutes into the first leg of our seven hour trip when august wiggled out of my arms and onto the lap of our seat mate, grabbing his crotch in the process. i just about threw in the towel then and there. thank goodness our neighbor was kind enough to pretend that he had slept throughout the whole thing, but it still took a serious pep talk from myself to pull things together after that. over the next two plane rides and the fifty minute layover in between, i went through every trick i knew to keep august entertained. and when we got through all of those, i cycled through them all over again with the same enthusiasm as if it was the first time. it was exhausting. but things always seem worse than they actually are and people are always more understanding than you expect them to be. and crotch-grabbing aside, august really did do great. anyway, we are here now and for the next week we'll be calling this cabin, nestled in these foothills, home. three cheers for vacation, hip! hip! hip!