The trailer rattled along the unpaved roads leading into the Bob Marshall Wilderness. It was the only thing breaking my trance as stands of Quaking aspen waved at the window
“Controlled-burn is a dirty word around here.” This is what we heard from Joseph Weathers, the owner of the wool mill we had toured in Mora. He walked us through
Wild water rushes over my toes, the scent of the river guiding me deeper. Cold seeps into my limbs, washing me awake until I begin to sway with the grass
To watch a flower bloom. To watch a flower bloom with six new friends as the sun sinks below the horizon and darkness descends from the sky. To watch a