Pagans devote nights to practice
Story by Elizabeth Diehl
Mismatched jars containing anything from mugwort to body salts line the shelves of the temple like suits of armor.
The smell of sage, bundled and burned less than an hour earlier, swirls around a space filled with the crescendo of drums, tambourines and bells.
Barely lit by flickering candlelight, the face of Raven Digitalis flashes in and out like old film-reel footage.
Blind University of Montana student finds her way in the seeing world
Story by Joe Pavlish
Kiira DeVries confidently follows the line of her white cane, Henry, as she strides directly into her biggest fear: the night, “a strange, dark place where I don’t feel comfortable.”
Henry’s half-inch head is rounded at the tip, and DeVries, 23, softly grips the smooth but sticky worn rubber. The other end of the cane swims through the dense, rainy Missoula air.