When the sun goes down

As someone born and raised in Montana, I should be immune to the summer sunsets here. Or at least immune to urge to take a picture of them. But I’ve been reaching for my camera almost every night now. I guess I understand why Charlie Russell painted so many of the damned things.

It isn’t just the light; it’s the vastness of it, and the sudden and silken coolness in the air after a hot day. Makes you feel doubly blessed. This time of year, that cool twilight is something you don’t get in the Midwest, or the East, or the South. Winters can be tough here, yeah. But right now, winter’s nowhere in sight

So here’s another Montana sunset. Run-of-the-mill to the folks who still live here, but pretty exceptional to me. The best in the world, in fact. At least until tomorrow night.