Fire Smoke Hazed Nostalgia

Sun Rise over The (mis)Zoo(la)

I've heard some of the smoke is from fires in Canada, and some in Washington. I feel a little guilty saying this because of all the troubles wildfires and their smoke can bring to people (and let me tell you, last year while going door to door -- no, wait, two years ago now -- for the political campaign, I did not hold this sentiment); the constant smell of tree smoke is a comforting one. Sort of like how the smell of suntan lotion always takes me back to being a wee girl back in Iowa, my cousin and I spending countless days at the Flora Pool. (As a rule, I don't wear suntan lotion. I want my face to look like a raisin when I die. Oh, and I don't burn anyhow...)

And I can't even tell you what memory, exactly, this smells brings. Campfires, for sure.... and the time when campfires are prohibited so they, themselves, don't turn into wildfires. Days up at the "The Lake" (locals know the only lake you could be talking about is Flathead Lake.) Every year we have to spend one day, at least, up at Blue Bay. Sometimes, Sam even goes and cooks steak while we all swim (he's not an outdoorsy fellow, but the man loves his steak and his family. He's a Taurus, whattya want).

Little Guy and his Dog at Blue Bay

My Little Guy, the little bro, learned how to swim there. We've gone from dragging him out, kicking and screaming, because he was developing hypothermia (early summer that water is f-ing frigid), to him hugging tight on my back and freaking out of I took him too far out. Eventually, I'd pushing him off me and watch him frantically doggy paddle in place till he got scared and became attached to his big sister again. Now, I have to drop the Little from his name, and if I finally make good on my threats to push him off the dock, I know he'll live through it! (Lol, and in that time, Mom has gone from, "okay I'll swim, just let me get in at my own pace." That never happened, and turned into, "I'm going to sit at the shore line, just do not splash me." Now we're at, "I'll stay up the hill in the shade and start lunch.")
Maybe it's just the smell of swimming, I'm gunna go get me some Clark Fork in a minute...

And the smell of surprising free bus fares. The air quality gets so dangerously bad that the city busses become free. Always a nice surprise. I remember my first summer back to Montana from New Mexico, and living with the ol' high school chums. The smoke was so thick going outside that it hurt your eyes. Seems like you could hardly see to the end of the block. The whole upstairs in the house was inescapable from this smell. And, of course, all the windows were kept closed so it was fantastic, all hot and smokey and muggy. Funny the things ya remember, and maybe miss a little.
And the setting sun over Missoula, a perfect deep deep red circle against a gray-scale sky.

Lolo Pass highway, South West of Missoula

And last year, Travis going just that ten-twenty minute drive south to fight the fires in Lolo, stopping by Caras on his way. God, Caras was damn near unbearable there for a few weeks. Hotter than hell (people actual become delirious, it's true! I've seen it. Mighta even happened to me too!) and the place filled with smoke. Those poor greenhouse ladies were all sun burned and sweltering too. Shoot, summer's hard!

Here's to this being the worst of it this year. I've got to keep all of these here windows open in this apartment. Plus, my butt's got some swimming to do! Oh, and there's, like, lives and property to keep protected too...