Ashes in the Wind

We scattered my Mom's ashes today. We went to Salmon's tiny airport and Dad chartered a small airplane. Being inside this thing reminded me of our our old, rattley 1958 Volkswagen bus. The sounds and vibrations were much the same. But this vehicle had wings; and in about 30 seconds we had taxied, accelerated and lifted off! We flew until we were over beautiful Stanley Lake, nestled right up under the shadow of the rugged Sawtooth mountains.

To say we flew is to gloss over what the flight was really like. More precicely, we bounced along in the air for nearly 45 minutes. Periodically, the whole plane would just drop several feet, or leap up several feet or tip sideways. I kept a steady eye on the pilot to see if he looked concerned at all. He didn't. It was a little like being on a ride at the county fair, except that it was very loud. We had to shout to communicate.

The scenery from that height is amazing - tree covered mountains as far as the eye can see, fading off into overlapping shades of blue in the distance. There were tiny spots of snow, smoke from forest fires, tiny snakey rivers and roads, and tiny goats and cows in fields far below.

Between the rigors of the ride and the sacred nature of the task, I found it to be an emotionally strenuous outing. I think we were all somewhat relieved when we returned to the earth and relative normalcy.

Afterward, we drove to the Burnt Bun on highway 93 for a burger and fries and milkshake. I think Mom would have seen the humor in that!