Montana Personal Narrative
Montana Personal Narrative
The great mountains of Montana started off as a sanctuary — a place where bison could roam the empty fields . A place where pugnacious grizzlies could lurk on the prairie . A place where shrewd mountain lions could stalk their territory . Montana was once a place empty of civilization , but as our country ’ s frontiersmen pushed farther and farther west , civilization expanded , and Montana became a place where humans and animals would co-exist .
By the river , the brown eagles are swiftly soaring , the bright falcons are vigilantly watching , and the glamorous bald eagles are hunting . As I look carefully at the water ’ s surface , I perceive an underwater battle . All colors of the rainbow — red , orange , yellow , green , and blue — erratically race through the river , fighting for their food . Further downriver , a waterfall slams against the surface . A hard breeze comes in my direction , and I can hear the leaves sussurating against the towering evergreen , spruce , and pine trees . Nature is alive and I am one with it . Sometimes if I am lucky , I ’ ll catch a glimpse of a burnt orange fox loitering , a clumsy mountain goat grazing , or even an elk gawking at me . But the only person surrounded by this tranquility is me , alone in the wilderness .
In this part of the country , the locals anticipate the first snowfall , like kids on Christmas Eve . The first sight of the snowy white dots across the dark gray sky usually happens in mid-October . When I amble outside , in the freezing cold , I can see a steamy cloud as I breathe out . In my panoramic view , the entire backdrop is covered in glimmering white . Dull flocculent clouds hide
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