The dogs and I topped out at nearly 9000ft the other evening, just in time to have our sweat cooled by a strong wind and our hearts devoured by a righteous sunset.  It was a perfect night to get out and fall even more deeply in love with the land here.

I stayed up high for a little too long and made my way back down the steep face of Scout Mountain in the stumbling dusky hours, tripping through sagebrush and talus fields on wobbly knees and ankles, spooked witless by grouse bursting out of the brush beneath my feet.  It was worth it though, it always is.  By the way, have you heard the ruffies drumming in your neck of the woods.  A drumming ruffed grouse is one of my very favorite sounds in nature — it transports me directly back to the wide and wild arms of my childhood.  There’s no sound like it and it turns the key in the lock of my feral little heart.  I hear the drumming and something inside of me howls and shakes its mane.

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I haven’t officially told you yet, but due to some housing technicalities (namely, the LCITW is no longer available for rent), I am not moving to the Methow this summer with Robert!  Thankfully, no, gloriously, Robert cannot begin work until June 16th due to some other technicalities.  Since it feels like summer here already, I will inform you of the fact that we are enjoying, so very much, our first partial summer together in seven years!  We are rafting, hiking, camping and gardening galore as well as sipping gin and tonics, taking evening bike rides, and doing lots of dreaming about what we want to do with our lives.

I love to dream with him.

We feel lucky, time feels precious, no one beats at the big bass drum of my heart like he does.