I am better at being alone when I am surrounded by living things. The loneliness really sets it when everything around me is silenced by winter, snow, and ice. I can hear my thoughts reverberate and they become exponentially bigger. While at times I love the echoing feeling of winter, it becomes its most oppressive in January and February.

I miss being with living things, feeling river rocks and tree bark and the textures of leaves in my hands, smelling the dirt and decay of fallen things on the forest floor. I used to pluck petals from flowers and hold them until the color bled into my fingertips, and in comparison this Montana winter seems jagged and harsh.

I need to get out of Montana soon, if only for a few days.