Paint Horse

It may seem odd, but all my life I have dreamed of living in Montana. Perhaps it is because as a child, my step-Dad had friends living in the southeastern part of the state, and their ranch became the destination on our summer vacations. Montana had been his dream too.

Maybe the dreams exist due to a subconscious longing for free and open spaces. They call it “Big Sky Country” for good reason. It represented to me, a place where time slowed and the only signposts or billboards were barns or line cabins off in the distance. A place where in the evening the sky was blanketed by an unimaginable volume of stars.