As I pull out suitcases in preparation for return to Yellowstone, my thoughts turn to last summer’s experiences. Discovering the serenity of walking in the forest.
Experiencing the power of the river as the water comes rushing around the corner to the Upper Falls of the Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone dropping down right in front of me.
Remembering a child’s wide-eyed wonder seeing Old Faithful’s spectacular stream of ancient water.
Yellowstone has a way of pulling my heartstrings.
I relive my joy of seeing the awesome power of Beehive Geyser’s enormous firehose-like eruption, the beautiful rainbow appearing as it rains down on everyone.
I remember the astonishing sight of the Lower Falls tumbling down 308 feet.
I recall the massive bison herd crossing the road in front of me, the osprey’s call as it flies overhead with a trout winding its way back to the huge nest on the tall Lodgepole Pine.
I remember the emotion welling up inside me watching the majestic wolf pack from across the valley, realizing those incredible animals were virtually wiped out from this truly wondrous environment.
There are so many images, whether captured in a camera lens or in my mind, that stay with me. Once again I’m drawn back to those awe-inspiring thermal features. But I’m also feeling drawn to the silent forest and the wonder of just who—or what—is making that sound. I’m looking forward to once again seeing those trees, hearing the breeze through the pine needles releasing their scent on a warm day. I’m eager to once again hear the Firehole River tumbling over rocks and cliffs,
and to watch the ice breaking up on Yellowstone Lake while hardly being able to see across that massive expanse of water.
Yes, Yellowstone pulls on my heart strings. My thoughts and remembrances of a place that is so very special to me now. We leave in a week to return to that extraordinary, magical place called Yellowstone National Park.
Thankful to now be part of a place I call home for almost half of each year.