At times it takes stamina. It’s something you get under circumstance. Like muscles from exercise. The leaves are damn near down. It has been a mild fall. Things are about to change. The garden needs to be taken out. Thanksgiving is a feast and the garden can still supply more than a few tables.
The rivers are running pure clear in the mountains. This is the month. Seen lots of clear blue in the mountains. With luck the driftwood will be strewn on the rocks. A few hunks of cedar, tumbled down and worn smooth from upstream. It’s only a few miles but it’s amazing what a few years will do. Hardship in the riverbed can be beautiful.
The Palliser is calling. Sometimes nothing will do but to be deep in the canyon. Blazes on the ridge above damn near wiped clear. The sound in your ears, with only shreds of spruce light between you and the deep blue pools holding cutthroat.