I love the sounds of spring in the Rocky Mountains. It is nice to hear the flutter of a bird’s wings just before it freezes to death and plummets to the snow covered earth and the crunching of the snow just before an ermine catches the last surviving rabbit. It is a special moment when I hear the sound of an ice covered walk just as an old man slips and breaks a bone. I love when six feet of snow slides off of the roof and covers a young deer with a heavy blanket of death. These are the sounds of spring. They are only interrupted by the sound of an early visiting tourist’s car slipping into a ravine, never to be seen again. Ahh, Montana in Spring.