Living Here

Living in the Gallatin Valley is much like living anywhere else. There is the daily routine of life—commuting to and from work, maintaining a home, raising kids, enjoying retirement. It's the same as most places in America. The same, that is, until we remember to pause from the daily routine of life and look out instead of in, up instead of down, and around instead of straight ahead. Then we remember why we chose to live here, in Montana, in the Gallatin Valley, in Wheatland Hills.

Look Northeast

The mountains never cease to amaze. On one day they can be hidden from view by heavy snow, or low-lying fog. On another they can be sharp and clear against a flawlessly blue sky. And then there are days like this that catch one by surprise, when the mountain dam bursts and the clouds flow like water over the peaks and splash with a flourish into the canyons and ravines below.

Indeed, the view in every direction is both breathtaking and startlingly different. Wheatland Hills is situated on the gently sloping foothills of the Bridger Mountains, which themselves rise suddenly to the east, sentinels that stand at attention every morning as they hoist the sun over their dazzling, iridescent shoulders into the Big Sky and every evening as they softly reflect the glowing embers of that same sun, which for us lower on the slopes has already set below the horizon, far off to the west. To the south lies the Gallatin Valley floor, sparking at night with the lights of Bozeman, lights that now stretch to the Hyalite Mountains, and the Spanish Peaks to the south. To the West lie the Tobacco Root Mountains beyond the lights of Belgrade. To the north, the Horseshoe Hills hide the Missouri River from view.

Look Northwest

Sometimes we just have to crawl out of bed early. When we do, we might be surprised by the specter of the rising sun chasing the setting moon to its resting place beyond the next rise.

Look West

It was a hot summer evening when I heard someone exclaim that I really ought to quit what I was doing (nothing) and take a peek through our west-facing window. Fires were burning in the forests of Idaho, Montana, and Canada as they have virtually every summer since long before white men arrived. Our normally pristine skies were filled with acrid smoke. Unpleasant as it was for the nose, the air was awash with an ethereal beauty for the eye as the setting sun lit the Big Sky itself on fire.

Look East

A quick summer storm refreshes and rewards with the promised rainbow.

Look in Your Back Yard

Wildlife that are not so wild are often seen wandering the neighborhood. Deer. pronghorns, the occasional bear, badgers, sandhill cranes, and other critters can be seen in the fields to the north,if not in our own yards. On summer nights crickets serenade serenade from their hiding places in a chorus as one. And the coyotes, seen often as well, chime in with a harmony and voice in operatic fashion (and sounding just as good).