In Montana (Late For The Sky)

So, driving back to Lewistown from the airport, what might have happened to the young Jonathan Rice? Could he have run out of gas? Could he have picked up a crazy hitch hiker? Could he have hit a deer? No, worse than all of these things. He ran into a snow storm. No crashes, no drunken strangers in the passanger seat, no fuel shortages, just snow. In the middle of May. Stupid, stupid Montana.

Sunday, I got in before noon, but couldn't bear driving back to Lewistown yet. So I wandered around Barnes and Noble, Borders, the Mall, Wal-Mart, and the dollar movie theatre (seeing Return of the King, which went down easier the second time; though i didn't finish it because i was very sleepy and still had a two hour drive ahead of me; i think i missed the last 45 minutes or so). It was raining when i flew in, which made me feel a little better, because it felt like Indiana when I left. But damn the night for turning it to snow! May is for rain!!!

I miss people more than ever. The first six months weren't bad; it wasn't until I came home over Christmas, then came back to Montana, that I first got homesick. Winter mostly sucked. But it had been warming up and things were seeming to get better. My trip to Indiana/Michigan, then the subsequent snow storm upon return to Lewistown, kind of blew all that spring-time comfort and good cheer away.


Give me the splendid silent sun with all his beams full-dazzling.

--Walt Whitman