Montana Splendor.

On a dusty road in Montana, between the towns of Dillon and Twin Bridges there is a barn.

A mile or so off the main road, it stands, beckoning a glance from passerbys traveling through this humble stretch of road.

Every time we've driven this route I gaze at it in awe. "I love that barn!" "Oh isn't it so beautiful?" I say to Dashing Boy as we drive by.

I wonder if other people notice it too. We're all so busy you know. Even in Montana sometimes.

This barn just draws me in. Round with three beautiful tiers. Apple red with cream trim. Care in the details.

It's magnificent.

On this day, we drove by the barn again. "Oh it's that beautiful barn!" I say to Dashing Boy. I oohh and ahhhh and go on about how wonderful it is.

Then Dashing Boy does something fun and spur of the moment.

He slows down. "Want to go see it?" he says as his eyes search for a road that may lead to it.

I do. Very much.

Soon we're driving down a road with this sign at its entrance:
What on earth does that mean? 2018?

One mile in and curve of the road and we are there. The red barn in all it's glory.

It's even more beautiful from this view. The doors- not seen from the side that faces the road- are perfectly wonderful.

Dashing Boy and I do a photo shoot:

one:lovely lines.

two:don't just drive by me, come touch me with your hands!

three: and stop and smell the roses.

We stayed for awhile. Walking the circumference. Imagining the barn being built. Watching it as different light beamed on its redness and pick-up trucks drove by on the gravel road.

And then we said goodbye. A silent thank you for such beauty and simpleness. Smiles on our faces and the taste of adventure in our bones.