The rain on Sinni's (1) roof
is gentle and comforting. It is the only time we do not hear the rush
of the nearby McDonald and Avalanche Creeks carrying the melting snow
and glacier waters to Lake McDonald. A few stragglers, who didn't
get off the mountain before the storm, go by, but for the most part
it is just the four of us - Pamela, me and the two dogs - with Sinni
in the cool, beautiful, solitude of the dense forest of cedar and
hemlock. Soon our nearest neighbor will be six miles away. Even when
a campground is full, rain generally brings quiet. Here at Avalanche
we only have two campsites that we can actually see from Sinni.
There is a stillness in the forest as
though all nature is standing so very still to receive the
life-giving rain. Mni wiconi - water is life. Some animals will
continue to quietly forage in the rain while others will seek shelter
and bed down for the night. Our resident Grizzly bear sow, with her
two big cubs, will be moving almost silently up Avalanche Creek,
along the side of Mt Brown, to her night time retreat at the
southeast end of Avalanche Lake. Her cubs are two-year-olds and will
soon be on their own. Tonight, however, they will still know the
warmth and protection of momma.
The table lamp by me gives off a soft
golden glow. I converted it to run off our 12-volt electrical system.
Our batteries are holding at 12.7 volts. The rule of thumb is to shut
down and go to bed when they drop to 12.2. Sinni is so small and
efficient that we rarely drop that low. We will have >12.2 volts
when the first light of morning hits the solar panels on the roof.
As a result, I am not quick to turn off the lamp that give the room a
cozy, comforting glow.
Canon Mountain above us is shrouded in
low hanging clouds. I can only make out a very little bit of its
peak. The forest is our protector and the mountains give us
strength. The rushing creeks lift our spirits while the animals -
deer, bear and a wide variety of birds - remind us that we are never
alone.
A handsome and confident white-tail
buck watches majestically from a distance. A lovely young mulie -
mule deer - doe stands at the edge of our campsite trying to figure
out our fifteen year old Pomeranian. His name is Theodore Ursus.
Maybe she thinks he looks like a tiny teddy bear too. A magnificent
blackbear makes his daily trek down to McDonald Creek, checking out
the picnic area before morning's light, and returning to the
mountain. He always goes behind us but never stops to visit.
The rain has passed. All that is left
is the patter of drips off the tall cedars above us. The sound of
the two creeks returns accompanied by the high single whistle of the
Varied Thrush. The sky is still light. In a few days it will not get
dark at all through the night. Nevertheless the forest will. It is
time for the night-time predators, the pine martens and barn owls, to
begin hunting silently as we sleep.
You have never experienced dark until
you have been in a place like Glacier or the desert where there is no
human light pollution. Glacier is a dark-sky park which means that it
is dark enough here that we are able to see Northern Lights and the
Milky Way like few other places on the globe.
Nitsitapiisinni - our way of life. No
where are we happier than when we are in the wilderness. No where
else do we feel more alive. Perhaps the hundreds of days and nights
we've spent in the wilderness, sometimes as much as sixty miles away
from the chaos and trappings of so-called civilization, has awakened
a primordial longing. Perhaps our time has enabled us hear and heed
the call to return to the oneness with all of nature.
As the rain becomes a memory the forest
wraps us in the comforting blanket of darkness and Unci Maka (2)
sings us a lulaby. Nitsitapiisinni.
FOOTNOTES =====
(1) Sinni is the name of our twenty
foot camper trailer and short for Nitsitapiisinni - Blackfeet for
"our way of life." For those who don't know us, we are
full-timers and Sinni is our home.
(2) Unci Maka means Grandmother Earth.
