by Laura Thomas
As spring advances, the temperatures are finally coming up. The snows are melting as the sun warms the earth, and it makes one feel like it’s time to be out of doors and enjoy the day. We decide it’s time to go for a walk to enjoy the sunshine, the fresh smells on the crisp winds that are still present this early in the year. The walk we choose to go on was following the Tobacco River.
As we walk along, the sounds of spring are all around. The birds that have returned are adding their voice of gladness to the day. The river is also talking, now that the grip of ice is gone from it. We move along the trail, looking for a way down to the river banks, “There is one”, says my love. At the bottom of the path we find a small tributary of the river that is off the main waterway and looking closer, we could see the telltale signs of beaver and muskrats. Suddenly, two Canadian geese fly up in front of us. I think they were as surprised to see us as we were them. “Hey that’s what a camera is for,” my love teases me. “Oh right”, I say as I and try to get a picture only to discover the battery is dead. We both laugh and I say, “Better bring an extra battery next time”.
We follow this small tributary, and then come out to the main river. “There, look,” my love says and points down the way, “There are the geese we scared, along with some ducks swimming on the river.” We stand there quietly on the bank, for some time, taking in all the sounds. The river’s flow is faster here and a sound arises as it moves to its destination. The birds chime in, and with the wind moving the trees, it makes for a beautiful melody. The wind also brushes against our cheeks, flushing them pink from its chill as the sun warms our backs. “Oh did you hear that?” says my love as we look at each other. An owl hoots. “Yes”, I say excitedly, “There it is again, we must be near its nest”. We start back towards the main trail as the owl hoots several more times. This is a special treat, to hear the owl, on an already wonderful outing.
a husband is one of the first to head an expedition to explore Alaska Territory’s Wolverine River Valley while his pregnant wife waits at Fort Vancouver for his return. In a letter to her he muses, “I suppose the wilderness does have its draw. She always keeps a part of herself a mystery.” Later he says, “It is a grand, inscrutable wildness. Never are the people here allowed to forget that each of us is alive only by a small thread.”
the late Susan Vreeland wrote, “She looked back at the forest—more dense and tangled and full of mystery than the forested part of Beacon Hill Park at home. How could she ever paint it? No art school taught how to paint such immense, paralyzing magnificence.” 
LESLIE BUDEWITZ:
Montana Women Writers 