Tonight marks the beginning of summer, and for the first time since 1967, June’s full moon, the Strawberry Moon, coincided with summer solstice. This event hasn’t occurred in the Northern Hemisphere in nearly 70 years!
Instead of settling down to read and write at a reasonable hour this evening, the night drew me out. It was an evening meant for marveling at the heavens, chilly to the point of needing a fleece, quiet and still, hardly a breeze. The moonlight drowned out all but the brightest of the stars, and clouds like gossamer swept through the sky.
A beautiful evening. The perfect way to ring in the summer.
Tag Archives: South Dakota
Elk on French Creek
We almost didn’t even see them, because of how dusty the road was, but Sarah pointed them out and we turned right back around to go and see them. Elk, right off the road! Before we were there, I had my camera in the right setting, zoomed in, lens cap off, and my window down, since I knew we’d probably end up startling them off.
The deer grazing with them gave a wonderful sense of perspective – Deer are big enough animals as it is, but next to an elk, they appear tiny! On the way back home, we saw the elk again, more this time, though it was almost dark out. It is a good day if you see elk once at a distance of a half mile. It is a great day if you see elk twice, right next to the road, and actually manage to get pictures of them. Beautiful, beautiful creatures.
May Day Blue
Yesterday I mused wistfully that Harney Peak frosted white would have been stunning under a clear blue sky. The drive to church this morning didn’t disappoint! We’ve hardly seen the sun in the last week or so, but this morning it finally decided to come out and wake everything up! Amazingly enough, we had left sufficiently early for church this morning so that we actually had time to pull over on Palmer Creek Road on Hwy 244 so I could snap a few pictures.
Other than on Harney Peak and the rest of the high-elevation hills which were glazed with frost, everything has greened up, refreshed by the rain and snow we’ve had over the last couple of weeks. Over the next few weeks, spring will truly come rushing in!
Twitterpated birds are busy nesting, making a racket in every tree. Goldfinches have gotten their summer plumage and no longer look scruffy, and bluebirds flicker brightly in pastures and from fence post to tree to shrub. Meadowlarks are back to sitting on fence wires, singing their little hearts out – What a life!
This really is a glorious time of the year. What other time of the year can one enjoy the serene beauty of winter and all the fire and life of springtime, all in the same day? And I’m really so glad we live in a world with color. God didn’t need to create color. But He did.
Harney Peak Frosted
Even a drive home after cleaning at church can dazzle and amaze. Here at home, there wasn’t even the slightest bit of frost. But in the higher elevations around Mount Rushmore and Harney Peak, the frost and snow suddenly began. I drove in sleety rain for a very little while, and Harney Peak was veiled in fog. On the way home, however, the clouds had rolled back, leaving the peak frosted white. Even under a cloudy sky, the whitened trees and rocks were dazzling white – How wonderful they would have been under a clear blue sky!
If it hadn’t been for the rain and damp, today would have been a great day to climb to the top of Harney Peak!
Winter Lingers
When I woke up yesterday morning, there was snow on the ground and continuing to fall from a heavy-clouded sky, a wet snow, melting and puddling in the red dirt of the driveway, but lightly coating everything else. I ran outside in my summertime footwear, refusing to go back to socks and boots. “Cold feet, cold feet, cold feet!” I scraped an inch or two of slushy snow off the truck, then ran back to the house for my camera. “Cold feet, cold feet, cold feet!” What a change from our 80-degree weather on Friday and Saturday!
The driveway up to Highway 40 was a fairyland. Trees were silvered with snow, grasses were bent and covered. The springtime landscape was muted and softened and pale. Low-lying cloud cover obscured hills and hilltops, altering the scenes I am used to on my drive in to work. I’ll have to admit, on Monday I wasn’t looking forward to the snow that was expected – But something about a quiet snowfall always changes my mind. The magic never fails to enchant me.
Snow and rain fell pretty much all day yesterday, as temperatures hovered in the 30s and 40s. When it finally warms up, how green everything will be! On the way home, I drove in and out of places where the snow was clinging tenaciously. Higher hilltops had snow on them, and the tops of trees were frosted over.
Living in the mountains, even relatively low-elevation mountains such as the Black Hills, the weather patterns are unpredictable and extremely changeable from one town to the next. As I drove home from church on Sunday, I drove into rain a mile or so outside Custer, as a pickup truck covered in 2 inches of snow whizzed past me the other direction. The snow and slush increased a few more miles down the road, then tapered off as I approached Mt. Rushmore. And at home, it was sunny and springlike.
I love the varied weather and the hesitating entry of each successive season. At this point, I am fully ready for springtime, the sun and the warmth that chases away the chill. But for now, winter lingers. Might as well enjoy it.
Where My Heart Sings
There is nothing like the sweet fragrance of the piney evening air. I caught myself time after time stopping to close my eyes and breathe deeply. There was a years-old memory I was chasing, buried in the familiar perfume, but I never quite caught it. It was a good memory, though.
Clouds billowed from over Harney Peak, which was veiled in mist, and the horizon burned with hues of rose and gold and blue. The air was still, and the hills and trees echoed with the sounds of birdsong. Turkey calls could be heard valleys away – The males are busy strutting for their ladies this time of year. The sharp drumming of a flicker on an old dead tree was followed by a glint of grey and rust, and wild laughter as he flew into a deeper hollow. 
After a week in the urban plains of Illinois, my heart was aching to be back here, back where the scrubby grasses aren’t yet green and the little prairie flowers are just beginning to bloom. I hungered for the towering pines, the billowing mountain clouds, the long red grass, the golden snakeweed, the rusted barbed wire fences, the red dirt roads, the familiar sight of antelope or elk or whitetails or mule deer, the distant glimpses of the Badlands. I lay on a bare hilltop, watching the sun burning behind the billowing clouds. 
Perhaps someday I’ll find another place where my heart is this alive, but for now it is here, here in my beautiful Black Hills. I’m so glad to be home – Back home, where my heart sings.
Song Dog Journal 