|In front of Yellowstone Lake|
Tom and I spent several cheerful days last week in Yellowstone Park with Charles, Erica and Maxwell. (Murgatroyd was engaged elsewhere). Tom's been to the park twice. I had never been. Erica jumpstarted us last summer by making reservations for two cabins in the park. Cabins go fast.
She brought an ice chest of great food for breakfasts and lunches, and she and Charles planned our itinerary. All we had to do was follow the red car.
I think our first stop was the Little Grand Canyon and the falls. I said a cliched "amazing" twice in ten minutes. Without a computer I searched for synonyms. I picked "staggering."
In my small mind I had wondered how good can Yellowstone be? Utah has mountains, lakes, Bryce and Zion's Canyon. Moab. The Uintahs. Why get in a car and drive five hours to see the same old, same old?
I was so wrong. Yellowstone was beyond my imagination: boiling rivers, brightly colored surfaces, pole pines and a vast lake.
And it had critters. We saw bears, bison, elk, jack rabbits, a moose and one slithering garter snake. We saw butterlies and floating seeds rise above the steam pots. And we saw that American icon, Old Faithful, rising and glittering toward the sun. Then we had a leisurely lunch and came out to see it all over again. Gorgeous. Stirring. Spiritual. I was lost but now am found.
At night, we played Parcheesi and Dominoes in the lodge in front of a fire. Maxwell smirked.
Thank you Charles, Maxwell and, especially, Erica, for opening up our world again.
And thank you, Teddy Roosevelt.