Our end-of-summer picnic took most of the day. We hiked down
to Daisy Park from the forest service road through un-tampered forest. Half way
down we discovered the first strawberry, tiny and brilliant red nearly hidden
under green leaves. Soon we were all on hands and knees collecting the tiny
sweet bites. They had no relationship to the gigantic berries in plastic clam
shells that we get at the store. The park was thick with waist high timothy
grass and Daisy Dean creek ran through the middle with pines and firs shading
its banks. Daisy Peak frames one side of the park and Daisy Notch the other. It
was my first time to the Park. I’ve heard of it many times from sheep trailing
days, but I never realized it was so easy to get to. So many places here in
Montana are part of family legend and have seemed mysterious and far away. As I
finally go to them I’ve discovered them to more than warrent the stories that
have been told about them over and over.