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clouds of winter (and oatmeal raisin cookies)

coffeeandwoodsmoke

Jan 23, 2020
2 min

clouds of winter (and oatmeal raisin cookies)

black rollers, waves tumbling in; poised to unleash onto the low-lying hills. two dozen birds, inky silhouettes burst from a tree and wheel straight up, then bank sharply to the south. * * * * * * * * * * a blue curtain hanging down, grazing the tops of foothills rich gold from a new sun that has found entry between layers of grey. as the sun rises higher grey morphs into silver, crystallizing from the outside in as frost on a windowpane. then: white. * * * *

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rain and strawberries

coffeeandwoodsmoke

Apr 22, 2019
2 min

rain and strawberries

Easter morning clouds swirl low over the mountains, encircling peaks in wreathing mist, tumbling down to the valley floor. The air heavy with damp and chill, mingled with the green of emerging vegetation and the sweet of woodsmoke. Yesterday a storm front rolled through, moving slow and steady, gracing us with a symphony of thunder rumbling for half an hour straight. No interruptions, no break in the vibration. From there a downpour, torrents beating down on the metal roof, a

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weather report

coffeeandwoodsmoke

Apr 9, 2019
2 min

weather report

The winter was so hard and cold, Froze ten feet ’neath the ground. — Grateful Dead, “Dire Wolf” The winter: Cold and long, even by north country standards. Hard. It started out mild and manageable. We skated through Thanksgiving and Christmas with tempered cold and scattered snow; even January exercised restraint. Then February arrived, and with it an unrelenting deep freeze. All through the month, every night subzero. Many days, too. March came, and the mercury dipped even

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in the company of wolves

coffeeandwoodsmoke

Nov 9, 2018
3 min

in the company of wolves

“Only the mountain has lived long enough to listen objectively to the howl of a wolf.” — Aldo Leopold, Thinking Like a Mountain Soda Butte Creek rises on the slopes of the Absaroka Mountains just outside Yellowstone National Park. It wends its way south and west, past the towns of Cooke City and Silver Gate, into the Lamar Valley. Anyone interested in wildlife watching in North America is well-advised to visit the Lamar, tucked into the northeast corner of the Park. Also know

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woodsmoke

coffeeandwoodsmoke

Oct 9, 2018
4 min

woodsmoke

Swing the axe In the hour before daylight Note the sparks That attend to the blade — Jeffrey Foucault, Dishes If I look over the top of my laptop screen, through raindrop-pebbled window panes, grass fronds feather sideways and tree branches flail against a backdrop of slate cloud curtains nestled among mountain layers. Copper leaves scud down the street and cold presses through double-paned windows. It’s only October, but we’ve already woken to snow several times, once dee

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good mom

coffeeandwoodsmoke

Oct 2, 2018
4 min

good mom

She slowly emerges from the tall grasses at the lip of the crumbling fish ladder. Her head swings from side to side as she surveys the river corridor, all senses alert, scanning for threats. For the moment, she perceives none. The large male bears–boars, as they are called–that dominate this prime fishing spot are elsewhere. Most females with cubs steer far clear of this fishing site. It’s too dangerous; the threat to cubs from the boars too great. But this mom holds her own,

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beyond the country

coffeeandwoodsmoke

Sep 25, 2018
2 min

beyond the country

If you keep driving: beyond the outskirts, past the horses and hay bales, to the far side of split rail fences and civilization. If you keep going far enough, you enter God’s country. That phrase means different things to different people, I’m sure, but the land I speak of is this: Wide open spaces unmarred by structure and untrammeled by man. Where braided gravel bars and river corridors wend their way through a sponge of alpine tundra then tumble down waterfalls cut deep in

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town and country

coffeeandwoodsmoke

Sep 18, 2018
3 min

town and country

Before I begin today’s post, I would like to extend a heartfelt thank you to those following my blog. Welcome to the world of coffee and woodsmoke. I appreciate your support and hope you enjoy your stay on these pages! The local grocery store here is called “Town & Country.” I reckon for many visitors even the town seems pretty country, but when you take the time to drive just a half an hour out–maybe not even that far–the difference makes itself known. Time slows down and sp

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the old chokecherry tree (and raw apricot cheesecake)

coffeeandwoodsmoke

Sep 3, 2018
4 min

the old chokecherry tree (and raw apricot cheesecake)

An almost imperceptible shift in the light. A slant of golden, the earth’s turning reflected in sunflowers’ faces. The skies blue again after a good night’s wind and rain scrubbed the smoky haze that had descended over the mountains, stacking them like so many cardboard cutouts. Around the edges the air is cool, threaded with the promise of chill. The creek meanders along, more leisurely than lazy, having left the frenetic pace of runoff behind. A grasshopper symphony plays f

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perpetual motion

coffeeandwoodsmoke

Mar 9, 2018
3 min

perpetual motion

Walking along an ice rink road riddled with puddles, there is a whisper in the air; an undercurrent. Spring is not here yet in the north country, but there is a promise in the breeze. Hold on just a little longer, says the wind to the buds that have begun to swell on the trees. The morning sunlight has shifted, now angling gold through the bay window. I look up and a bald eagle soars overhead, low enough that i can hear each wingbeat. vanilla caramel cashew buckwheat clusters

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reflections on winter

coffeeandwoodsmoke

Nov 20, 2017
3 min

reflections on winter

In late October, I returned to Montana after a rather lengthy absence. I returned in time to see the last of the fall colors, ochers and golds deepening into late-autumn glory. I returned, and soon it snowed. And it snowed. And it snowed. I stood one evening watching out the window as thick flakes softly sank beneath the yellow cone of light offered by the corner streetlight. The snow fell as peace descending from the sky. I stood watching, and I felt its peace. I felt at pea

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Song of the Sandhill

coffeeandwoodsmoke

Apr 20, 2015
2 min

Song of the Sandhill

A trail runs along the creek in my neighborhood, and the dogs and I walk with its flow several times each day. One day this past week, as we made our way along the well-worn path, I was (as I often am) lost in thought … about who-knows-what … the monkey-mind swinging from thought-tree to thought-tree. Our footsteps shuffled through the fine gravel. All was still. Until in a moment, the hush broke with the resounding trumpeting of two sandhill cranes. They floated in on si

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