I woke up this morning to the gentle rain in the mountains. The sky was grey and the pitter patter of the rain was replenishing the earth. As I walked outside, the cold instantly slapped me in the face. It was almost like I’d zipped forward or backwards 6 months in time to December 17th with temperatures that cold.

I wasn’t home. I was in Montana, big sky country, the rugged north – however you want to phrase it. I’d seen the passing winter storm warning but didn’t really think that “winter” was coming during the near start of summer. What’s this winter thing?

Montana has glorious summers. The mountains and lakes are unapologetically wild and refreshing to experience. In some ways, it’s the pinnacle of the Western experience—however, winter pairs with wild here (especially to this Northern Californian.

A few days ago, we were out exploring Avalanche Lake in Glacier National Park. The Montanans boldly went into the lake. I know I told myself I needed to get into cold water more regularly in the post about An Adventure to Live, but I just couldn’t. That lake water was too effing cold. After we got back to town, Google led me to Avalanche Lake at Lake Monster (this is a thing, apparently). Avalanche Lake’s water temps are in the mid-30s! WOW, that is cold!

As we made our way back to the park lodge, we stopped and chatted with one of the docents. She told stories of boaters in the park’s central lake and how boaters drowned in the lake’s 42° degree water – even with life jackets.

It’s a Caliornia Januaryish day here in Montana, and I’m sitting with my laptop, watching snow accumulate on the local mountaintops while the rain refreshes the earth.

Meanwhile, smoke and fire blanket the land I call home 💔. I’m climate worlds away.

Maybe the cold isn’t so bad after all. I hope that everyone back home is ok. ❤️