I don’t know what it was about the cow pastures, cow pies, thunder storms, red ants, the feminine power bringing together thousands of people to celebrate, that was akin to a community, home, religion, pride.

I stood out in the field after another violent thunder storm had passed. the skies were torrent with cloud patterns of the montana summer storms. the horizon was burning orange when emmylou harris came on stage. her hair blowing silver in the wind of the setting sun and the dawning, glittering moon. brittnea and I had giggled ourselves silly with our lawn chairs in the back of my 4runner, drinking mushroom tea, hiding from the storm. we were coming down and I felt right as rain. peaceful, beautiful, like I had come home. I stopped in the field, stared at the amazing sky, the horizon, the mountain ranges around us and gave thanks for my meandering life that had brought me here. to this moment. this day. this life.

it was like I had found something that I had been looking for all along. we both did. we found it in the music, in the spirit of the people, in the morning yoga amidst the sun baked cow pies. I had been there for four days and when it was time to go home, something had set root in me, something grew a little. something got started and I fell in love with montana and it’s people all over again. I felt pride in all of us for being there, for rising to the occasion.

this is my burning man. I love country music.