In the shadowy east of Bozeman town, the mountains loomed like a gang of brooding giants, laying in ambush for the unsuspecting sunrise. Scaling them was no less a trip than slipping into a wedding gown for a wild, unhinged frontiersman's ball - a ball that's one part celebration, two parts madness. But then, out of nowhere, like a bad trip turning worse, comes this battle cry, this monstrous tidal wave, a psychedelic nightmare hell-bent on swallowing the mountains, hills, and every last soul. It was pure, unadulterated chaos, a spectacle of nature's raw, unforgiving power, under the wide and wild Montana skies.
A painting with words.
Thanks, Stan.
It was the inspiration for my own poem today, Poetic Astigmatism.
Great title
Thanks!
Another wow
Thank you Patris
A story popped into my head.
In the shadowy east of Bozeman town, the mountains loomed like a gang of brooding giants, laying in ambush for the unsuspecting sunrise. Scaling them was no less a trip than slipping into a wedding gown for a wild, unhinged frontiersman's ball - a ball that's one part celebration, two parts madness. But then, out of nowhere, like a bad trip turning worse, comes this battle cry, this monstrous tidal wave, a psychedelic nightmare hell-bent on swallowing the mountains, hills, and every last soul. It was pure, unadulterated chaos, a spectacle of nature's raw, unforgiving power, under the wide and wild Montana skies.
Love it, thank you Gloria.
Terrifying and almost mythical. My great imagined fear when I was small were tidal waves .
Noah comes to Montana.
Just when I thought I was safe!
And a happy go bloody morning to you, too!
Hahaha, yes, thanks HONP.