Mountains Haunt Katherine L. Barrett, PhD For four consecutive summers during my graduate career in biology at the University of Notre Dame, I had the amazing opportunity to mentor undergraduate ecology students at the University of Notre Dame Environmental Research Center (UNDERC) on the Flathead Indian Reservation in western Montana. During my time in Montana, I witnessed innumerable natural wonders each day. Perhaps the most enduring memory I have from this experience is the image of Mount Calowahcan, a prominent peak along the Mission Mountain Range. While the work was arduous and pushed me in ways I never thought possible, the experiences in Montana are forever etched in my soul. Seeing that mountain peak each day, along with the melodious songs of the western meadowlark and the roaming herds of bison, gave me a sense of place in that arid, wonderful landscape and inspired me to compose this poem. I am captivated, enchanted, by your hovering. “We must finish this transect,” he says. But I gaze across the field of three-awn, and the mountain speaks to me. Tacit, but it is there: Then the fog sets in, But I still see, feel, hear, the transect tape. “Do not let it jam again,” I hear myself say. We put artificial frames over a site, as if to say, “This is the manner of things here.” Between bison and sunrises and other wonders, See the billowing clouds emerge over the Missions, As if to smooth their jagged faces. Watch the pronghorn as they meet your naïve eyes with their deliberate glare. Listen for the dried flower heads bearing seeds, rattling in the wind. Watch as the Pacific winds comb through the fields of bromes and rye. Listen to the western meadowlark; she sings only for you. Hold the transect tape steady as your friend walks away.
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