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JoLynne Lyon
Wife, mom, storyteller, pr type, recovering journalist
Wife, mom, storyteller, pr type, recovering journalist

JoLynne's posts

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Dubois in the off-season
The Wind River mountain range stretches from Lander to Dubois. Highway 26 runs along the range's east side, offering stunning views for the 75-mile drive. In mid-April spring is just starting to take a foothold. We stopped often to snap photos, only to get ...

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The cemetery where Sacajawea is buried. Or not.
A monument to Sacajawea stands at the brow of a hill at the cemetery. Offerings are draped over her hand, attached to her fingers and left at her feet. I am not convinced that Sacajawea is buried on the Wind River Reservation. I'm not convinced she isn't, e...

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Wind River Country: Installment 1
In today's world you can Google, Wikipedia and satellite-map your writing research, and there's nothing wrong with that. Well, mostly. It works for land features, but when it comes to people who don't share your culture, some face-to-face time really helps....

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In which I work out my complicated relationship with writing on my blog
This is the region I've explored in my books, and in real life.  First I was a writer. Then I was a writer with a publishing contract. Then, as the self-publishing movement peaked, my small publisher went under. I had a completed manuscript with characters ...

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Getting past that awkward stage
I've passed a month, waiting to bring you the spring shots I've been wanting. Usually there is an awkward stage between winter and spring, when everything is the color of mud, and the air smells mildew-y. It's hard to make that time beautiful. Sometimes, wh...

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Tundra swans
I hope that if you had a long, stormy week like we did, you also had a night with a break in the clouds and perfect light. This is a scene from ours. There were swans in it. They arrived a little before the fresh dusting of snow that makes them a bit harder...

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Thankful Thursday: field trips
Today I am thankful for my son-in-law, who has added so much to our lives. A geologist and amateur historian, he makes sure that everywhere we go, we learn something. It's like a field trip and vacation all in one. He took us to the ghost town of Grafton, U...

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The progression of a sunset
Sometimes, when there is just enough but not too much moisture in the air, it becomes a vehicle for light at sunset. The sun hits the perfect angle, and suddenly reds are redder, greens are greener, the snow turns pink and the air itself is rose-gold light....

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A foggy winter morning
There's not much of a narrative today, just a look at a foggy morning. Neighbor's hay shed in a blanket of fog. More fog. Then the sun came up... ...and it shot across the valley to light the western mountains.

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I grew up in Cheyenne, Wyoming. I remember it as a place that was embarrassed that it wasn't something bigger, but then, I was a teenager at the time. Maybe I was projecting my own feelings onto my home town. At any rate, Cheyenne seems willing to embrace w...
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