In late August, my daughter and I managed to find a campground both quiet and dark. As evening deepened, we grabbed our pillows, lay down on the picnic table and settled in to watch the stars come out.
 

My daughter is an iPad junkie, always watching something, doing something, often both. And yet, she lay on the table and delighted in the slow winking in of stars, kept counting and counting them. One, two, seven, fourteen. She would point out the newest ones she noticed. 


Her great-grandmother who was Crow taught her father to never point at stars. I have a hard time staying quiet as Rose counts and points but I don’t want to spoil her delight. 
 

We watched for two nights, snuggled up together. 
 

A week before we had tried the same thing but up in the Bangtails at a friend’s cabin. The view from there reaches for at least fifty, maybe a hundred miles to the south. They call it the observatory.  
 

We set up chairs on their deck, put our feet up, and settle in, hoping to watch the meteor shower. But in a very short time the clouds begin to cluster overhead and though we do see some stars, and as clouds shift the moon peaks out off and on, it is clear we will not see meteors. So we pack up and head down the mountain. At the bottom, the road opens in to Bridger Canyon. It’s dark by then. We stop, stand out behind the car and look up, in awe, at the beauty above us, beauty mostly obscured at our home in Bozeman, erased by lights, so many too-bright lights. And by habit, our habit of being indoors, doing something. 
 

My friends built their cabin thirty years ago, have tracked the determined sprawl that is Bozeman, lights creeping up the flanks of the mountain. They notice a difference in what they can see. I do too. But  admittedly part of my problem with star watching is that in the summer, I have a hard time staying awake long enough for the sky to truly darken. I used to lie out on their deck with an intention of watching the sky all night, tracking the progression of stars, of the moon, of the shadows of night-flying critters. And I usually fell asleep. 
 

Once I watched huge roving lights cycling overhead. It was two days before I realized they were the search lights from one of the first Hatch Film Festivals in Bozeman. For that one night, they were mystery, eerie, a little creepy, and one of my first experiences of significant light pollution at the cabin, a harbinger of things to come. 
 

Autumn is the perfect time for night sky watching. The night comes earlier and it isn’t too cold yet. Yes, you miss the big dramatic meteor showers, but you see stars and more stars and the deep, infinite black that interlaces the Milky Way. 
 

Bring a deck chair. On a cooler evening, bring a sleeping bag to cuddle in. Leave behind distractions like your cell phone. Or turn it off. Yes. There are some super cool apps that help identify planets, stars and constellations but its okay sometimes to not know it all, to just be present and enthralled. Don’t set up your camera either. Just be you. The night. The stars.
 

I used to make it a habit to stay at the yurt at Homestake Pass in early November. Once in those years the night was perfect. Not too cold. No clouds. I settled in on a deck chair, snuggled in to my sleeping bag, propped my feet up, and watched SKY TV, looking out over miles and miles of sky, rich in stars. On a night like that, I think I hear the stars singing. 

Jenna Caplette migrated from California to Montana in the early 1970s, first living on the Crow Indian reservation. A Healing Arts Practitioner, she owns Bozeman BodyTalk & Integrative Healthcare. For relaxation, she reads novels and walks the trails around Bozeman with her four legged companion. Oh, and sometimes she manages to sit down and write.

The fall season equals hunting season and boy, oh, boy does that create some strange behavior in our neck of the woods. All of the outdoorsman are getting that crazy look in their eyes. On any given night, the peaceful serenity is broken by the practicing elk bugles and deer grunting. The bow shop has extended their hours. The hospital is full of new pregnancies as the outdoorsman pretend they are elk and deer in the rut. It is once again acceptable to wear camo 24/7 instead of just on the weekend. Is the outdoorsman in your life pretending to be an elk in rut? Is he running around like a squirrel hiding acorns, except he is hoarding articles of camo clothing in his truck? Is he sniffing the air and giggling like a school girl because it "smells"; like fall is on the way? Yes? Well that is definitely what is going on around our house. Here are the top ten signs that hunting season is just around the corner...God help us it seems like a camo zombie apocalypse is upon us.
 

1. There are men everywhere pretending to be bulls n' bucks. Yes, they are running around with a crazed look in their eyes, grunting, bugling, holding shed horns on their head and ramming into innocent tree adversaries and fighting the branches with their antlers. I guess, I should be grateful they aren't whizzing down their legs...YET.
 

2. Life's priorities have dramatically changed. No, the lawn doesn't need to be mowed any longer. No, the garbage doesn't need to be taken out. No, the wife and children do not need any attention- they are just FINE! What MUST be done? Archery practice. Bugle practice. Rifle practice. Scouting. Camo prepping. That is all and don't bother asking for anything else.
 

3. The outdoorsman's place of employment calls. Is there any issues they need to be concerned about? The outdoorsman has requested 2 day work weeks for the next 12 weeks... Don't worry honey-we have plenty of food in our pantry and the electric company won't mind if we are late paying the bill. After all, isn't that what emergency savings are for? Is this an emergency? I guess so in camo land...
 

4. Suddenly the laundry room is no longer my concern. The outdoorsman hasn't even given the laundry room a second glance since...well, this time last year, but suddenly it is his place of serious business. The door is overflowing with camo and air-tight bags. I am not allowed to touch any of his precious items with my perfumed, stinky hands or fresh scented soaps and I am not allowed to put everyone else in our home's laundry in until he is done with his "project"; for fear of contamination. All camo articles of clothing must be washed in no-scented or dirt- scented and promptly bagged.
 

5. He has been receiving numerous "thank you" cards from Cabela's online, Kuiu and Zamberlan Boot Company (he should never complain about my shoes after seeing what they charge for those things!) and numerous other outdoor gear stores. We have also been receiving packages from the UPS guy at least 4 times a week. I am starting to think I should ask him in for dinner as he is here so often. But the packages are whisked away before I can even bring them in the house. Strange, huh? This leads to #6...
 

6. For some reason our credit card bill is missing and the online password is not working...I ask the outdoorsman and he just bugles at me and runs away like a wild animal. I am forced to call in and see what the problem is. "Well, m'am...a cardholder has called in and changed the information"; I change the info back and see that we are independently keeping Cabela's, Sportsman's Warehouse, the bow shop, and all sorts of online outdoor supplier companies in business...
 

7. Who needs sleep anyways? The outdoorsman is staying up late at night frantically punching buttons on his Smartphone and studying on X-maps. He grumbles a lot to himself and then will call other crazy camo people, I assume, grunt a few times, then mark the calendar and a spot on the map. I wonder how they understand what the hell they are saying...Grunt...Grunt...Snort...Oh, yes, honey...I totally understand.
 

8. The outdoorsman is now wearing a uniform of his hunting pack and his new hiking boots everywhere we go. I just pretend like I don't know him when we go to the store. I am pretty good at veering off into another aisle like I forgot to grab something. Date night...Now that hunting season is upon us...there is no time for that crap. But, I have to imagine he would wear his pack and boots if I could convince him to take me to a movie instead of a date night consisting of watching him shoot. Oh, goody!
 

9. Suddenly our diet is very structured. There will be no beers, there will be no treats, all there will be is meat and vegetables. I am mildly concerned that he is trying to become a wild animal so that he will hunt like one...but luckily, I am wrong. Apparently, the outdoorsman is hoping to be able to outrun the elk and deer instead of sneak up on them from a distance. He is constantly mumbling about being in shape for hunting and marches up and down the mountain behind our house at least 25 times per evening. Yes, of course, he has his pack and boots on.
 

10. The outdoorsman's truck has been transformed back into his command center. Gone are the fishing rods and tackle boxes. They have been replaced with camo-filled dry bags, sleeping bags, tents, bows and guns. His precious "animal spotting"; paraphernalia has been taken out of the glove box and placed back in their special spots. The binos are now hanging from the rearview mirror and a spotting scope is resting upon the driver's window. Yes, I suppose it is time for me to get out the helmet I wear when I ride with him in the fall. The driving gets extra scary this time of year. Who needs to look at the road when there are animals to be spotted, a rifle hanging in the window and a fresh new tag in your back pocket?
 

If any of these above listed items are occurring in your home or you happen to notice any camo clad men head-butting trees while holding shed horns on their heads, I can guarantee that hunting season is just around the corner. Now is the time to hide those cute little deer that you have been feeding all summer, lock up your dogs, contain your cats, and put hunter's orange on all of your livestock. The hunters are coming and you better look out!

Berube lives a crazy, laugh-filled life with her outdoorsman husband Remi and their three camo-clad children in Missoula, Montana. A graduate of Montana State University and the Northern Alberta Institute of Technology, she loves being a mom and enjoys hiking, fishing, and camping. “Confessions of a Camo Queen: Living with an Outdoorsman” is her first book.
 

It is available for purchase at:

http://www.amazon.com/dp/1560376287/ref=tsm_1_fb_lk

Photo by: Kristen Ryan