Norman MacLean (1902 – 1990)
“…My father was very sure about certain matters pertaining to the universe. To him, all good things, trout as well as eternal salvation, came by grace and grace comes by art, and art does not come easy…. ”
“…Dear Jesse, as the moon lingers a moment over the Bitterroots, before its descent into the invisible, my mind is filled with song. I find I am humming softly; not to the music, but something else; some place else; a place remembered; a field of grass where no one seemed to have been; except a deer; and the memory is strengthened by the feeling of you, dancing in my awkward arms….”
Norman MacLean, “A River Runs Through It”
Michael Lemon Portfolio 