A room with a view

I’ve always liked a room with a view, and I’ve had a few.

The view out the front window of the apartment Barb and I rented on Willson Avenue in Bozeman always reminded me of a Courier & Ives print, especially in winter. The four-plex we lived in, however, was torn down a few years ago. Apparently, it didn’t fit the aesthetic of the neighborhood.

The view out of our front window in Malta is somewhat similar. The prettiest house in town sits across the street surrounded by towering trees.

The best views, though, are from those rooms I built myself. The log and stone addition I put on my cabin in Cooke City included a window in the gable end that offered a spectacular view of the backside of Pilot and Index peaks. From the bed in the loft, I woke to that view every morning.

The cabin was high enough above town, and the window high enough on the gable, that the view contained nothing but wild country. I couldn’t see a roof or power line or a road.

Although I couldn’t see them, I knew somewhere in that landscape were grizzly bears, bighorn sheep, and mountain goats.

When we first saw the view from our cabin on Fort Peck Lake we immediately told the Realtor who was showing us the place: “We’ll take it.”

It was simply the lake and dock down the hill from the cabin.

We could also see other docks and a row of cabins across the bay. It wasn’t wild, but it was wonderful nonetheless.

Last fall we moved a storage shed off the property and I’ve been working on a bunkhouse to replace it ever since. Once the foundation was completed Barb and I spent a lot of time sitting there in lawn chairs relishing the view. To the south, we could see across Rock Creek to the marina, but the view I favored was of the badlands to the east.

I kept that in mind while I was framing and made sure that the view wasn’t obscured.

I put in the windows last week and if I situate myself just right in the nearly-completed room I have a view of unspoiled country all the way to the badlands. It’s not perfect. There’s a road cut if you know where to look, and until the trees leaf out you can see a picnic table. But through my aging eyes, there’s not a building in sight, just a landscape hiding deer and antelope and coyotes.

I’ve always like a room with a view.

Parker Heinlein is at [email protected]