POTD: Tumbleweed Still Life

Tumbleweed Still Life
Bozeman, Montana
2021

If you have good memory, you might remember a POTD from back in 2017 featuring these same baskets and tumbleweeds. At the time though it was located on the other end of the ledge it’s sitting on, thus catching evening light instead of the morning light as in this shot.

POTD: Snow-Covered Peaks

Snow Covered Peaks
Bozeman, Montana
2021

After taking yesterday’s POTD photo and then looking over at this fencing, I couldn’t help but see the similarity between the two scenes.

POTD: Storm Coming

Storm Coming
Bozeman, Montana
2021

Most of the storms at our mountain house come from the northwest. The Bridger Mountains in that direction do cause a good deal of the snow to fall on it’s lee side before it gets to us. That’s something I’ve been quite thankful for in the past, at least whenever I was trying to keep our road clear of snow. Now that we spend most of the winter weather in town though, I’d be fine with it piling up to its heart’s content as that would make for a lusher, greener summer.

POTD: Views From the Pond #32

Views From the Pond #32
Bozeman, Montana
2021

This ruffed grouse was not too concerned to have me sharing some time with it around the pond, although it did eventually saunter off slowly.

POTD: Views From the Pond #30

Views From the Pond #30
Bozeman, Montana
2021

It’s been two weeks since winter made it’s most recent attempt to exert itself around here. It was a feeble attempt; this snow was all gone by the afternoon and we’ve had mostly nice weather since then. But winter will win out eventually of course.

POTD: Rodin at the Rodeo

Rodin at the Rodeo
Bozeman, Montana
2021

I was working The Thinker into another composite photo I’ve been putting together when my mind flashed on him appearing on this fence in this photo I took about eight years ago. So I took off on a rodeo tangent for a while.

POTD: Food for Thought

Food for Thought
Bozeman, Montana
2021

     Of marble men and maidens overwrought,
     With forest branches and the trodden weed;
     Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought
                                            –from Keats’ Ode on a Grecian Urn