So catching a cargo flight back home (Montana) from England was an interesting experience. I wasn’t sure what to expect except that the mesh seats would be lining the sides of the cabin and it would be cold and loud.
I was right about those parts, but I wasn’t expecting the casualness of it, and that they wouldn’t give a shit if we laid down on the floor wherever we could. So I chewed up half an ambien, crawled in my sleeping bag on the floor and peaced out for 7 of the 10 hours. It was the greatest overseas flight ever.
Upon arrival, we were immediately hit with that super dry heat characteristic of the area. My skin and nose felt it instantly. But I could smell the pine, and oh man did it smell delicious. We’ve been debating (my husband and I) about where we think we want to be shopping for land for retirement, weighing between the NW area of Oregon and NE Washington/Northern Idaho/NW Montana.
Me more towards Oregon, my husband more towards the latter.
The main factor for me is the climate. My skin issues do not fare well in the dry ass extremes of this area. But with the moisture of the coastal PNW climate also comes the grey cloud of doom that hangs out for about 9 months of the year. It’s a shitty trade off. Plus I love moss. And the PNW has moss a plenty.
But then I saw a clip of the latest research about the ridiculously enormous plate shift that is due in the coastal PNW at any moment, which also gave the inland option some points.
Anyway, it felt really really nice to be back in the area, I missed it more than I thought I did. The mountains here are like no other. Even if I do feel like a dehydrated piece of fruit.
Seeing everyone after a three year gap was an emotional rollercoaster for sure. So many stories to tell and hear, things to share, the joys of reuniting and the sadnesses of missing so much. The jet lag hit hard and I was passed out by about 9:30 the first night, and was then of course up with the sun. 5am is a lovely time here in the summer. It is the perfect temperature to sit outside with a cup of tea, watching the sun make its way over the trees. While I sat in the swing, a little group of 5 wild turkeys wandered around making loud ass noises at each other until Fleetwood (beautiful black lab love) made chase. Then the ballsiest turkey flew up into a tree to perch, which I had never seen before. I had no idea those fat ass birds could make it that high into a tree.
I spent most of my time home camping with all of my loves, eating tasty homegrown food and being in the trees. The joy and silence of being on the still water at dusk is like no other.
As I geared up to head back to England, it was very apparent to me where home really is. Not my hometown, but NW Montana in general.
After visiting the Norwegian Fjords, it is clear why so many of my ancestors chose to put down roots in Glacier country. It is the only place that I have seen thus far that even compares to the majesty of Scandinavia. Time to throw down on some land and start slowly making our way back to the homeland <3
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