By Nan McKenzie

   When we were kids growing up on Whitefish Lake, there were no summer days filled with smoke.  There were no days so hot that you could feel your ears sweating.  There were bugs and snakes, huge thunderstorms, and infestations of tiny toads hopping to the water, thousands of them.  But no smoke.

   I think Montana is making up for lost opportunities now, filling our skies and homes and mouths and eyes with endless smoke from endless fires.  Today, though, a blessed rain is falling, bringing my lawn and trees back to life, clearing the smoke from the air, turning into snow up high.  I want to sit and read, wrapped in warm blankets and napping when it’s necessary, taking advantage of the phenomenon of rain, welcoming its presence after months of nothing. 

   The terrible fires have destroyed thousands of good Montana acres. Many people are living in fear of having their home destroyed, and many have already lost their homes.  Sad, sad. 

   But next week is the first day of autumn, so surely we’ll have more rain, and maybe even snow before long.  Some roads in Glacier Park and other places have closed because of snow and water running down the roads.  Conversely, it seems too early for winter, since we didn’t really have much of a summer.

   It’s a good day to work on editing another book, so I’ll get after that now and quit whining about bad weather. 

Nan McKenzie, September 18, 2017.