I love Montana. There is a beauty to the rims, and the sky can be the bluest I have ever seen. However, these pictures show the kind of country I grew up in and I think that there will always be a part of me that misses the ocean. These pictures are literally of my Dad and Annette's backyard. They live in an area called Deep Bay in British Columbia. I love the wildness of the water, somehow it seems to calm me no matter what mood I am in. I love the smell of the ocean (except at low tide) and the sound. I don't like crowded sandy sunbathing beaches very much. I love to be able to climb on a rock and watch the sea. Feel the spray on my face and laugh at the seals playing. More often than not, see an orca flip it's tail. Sea gulls wheel and complain, they are sort of like the Woody Allen of the bird world, constantly fretting. Never bored, I could wander for hours listening to the nature filled silence, turning the occasional rock over and smiling at the antics of frantic little sand crabs. Every once in a while I would see a glint, a hint of color ~ blue, maroon, green or even a frosty white ~ bending down to look ~ I would score another piece of beach glass for my collection. Once just a hobby, now each piece is my own little ocean in a bottle, trapped, just like the homesickness that sometimes threatens to overtake me. Most of the time it is fine. I love Montana, I can see how for most people it gets in their blood. I call it home. But sometimes when I see pictures like these, I miss the ocean it so much. For just a moment I take the lid of my jar of beach glass memories off and I hear the scream of the gull, I feel the spray of the sea and I am touched by the pull of the tides. For just a moment. Then I put the lid firmly back in place. I have to, this is my home now.