by Bryony Schwan

Rattlesnake Creek runs from the mountains near my home to the Clark Fork River in the heart of my hometown. The trail head is only a short drive away, perhaps ten minutes at most. A mile into the sparse, Ponderosa Pine forest, the trail splits and the lesser fork drops down along the creek. Another ten minutes along the bank there is a clearing with a little beach where the creek widens, shallows and pools. On the other side of the creek, shale cliffs with jagged horizontal layers of sedimentary rock hang over the creek and reach up forty or fifty feet. The creek sings as it runs over the multicolored rocks. Rattlesnake Creek is loved for its stone jewels—rocks of turquoise, burnt red, gray, and gold. The water is so clear you could easily be seduced into drinking it.

I love this spot. As the sunlight touches the water, the reflections dance across the cliffs broken only by moss and hanging gardens of monkey flower. I can sit here for hours watching as the water ouzel, a regular here, bobs up and down as though dancing to the music, then hops and flies from rock to rock ducking its head underwater to look for insects.