Made what turned out to be a mad dash to Glacier and back in 24 hours, returning late last night. Even though it wasn’t what I had intended, the drive alone was worth the trip. The landscape between I-15 and Augusta and Choteau and on towards Browning can easily claim the most spectacular sweeping scenery in the country. Even in the harsh afternoon light on the trip north — flat and not a shadow in sight — it was still beautiful. And on the return trip in late evening light, it was heart-wrenchingly breathtaking. Everything below the sky is the color of wheat, whether it is or not. Except for the occasional interruption of alfalfa fields, which are Dayglow green by comparison. All of it, the cows whose distant shapes melt into the waving grasses, the herd of mares and colts who move away from the road as soon as I stop to photograph, the road that undulates with the hills into the horizon, the abandoned cabins and barns, the patterns of the freshly-cut wheat and alfalfa fields, the hawks, the call of a not-yet-departed meadowlark, the silhouettes of the peaks of the Bob Marshall, the clouds, even the wind — are straight out of a casting call for the next feature film entitiled The Mythic West.  But here there is no separation of myth and reality . . . it is super forreal . . . and, with the full moon rising in the east, I can confidently state that Montana has never been more high, wide, and handsome than in the light of  this mystic timeless moment. Cue the coyotes.