Back in Big Sky country.
We came up to visit gramps for Easter. Except he doesn’t really celebrate that holiday.
He’s an old ranching man, from the days when men knew how use guns from the age of 5.
Gas explosion in downtown Bozeman.
I tried to be a kid again.
You can’t be a kid again.
The local townsfolk hold a sunrise Easter service at the top of the mountain every year.
We rode up the chairlift without skis.
We soon wished we’d been born with thicker blood.
Snow Angel.
Easter prayer.
Jesus isn’t white. from chris heavener on Vimeo.
And after celebrating J.C.’s resurrection everyone skis down the mountain. All very strange.
Goodbye cold. I won’t miss you.
