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Yesterday I saw my very first wolf. Not in a video or movie or photograph. A real, live wolf. And not just one wolf. Lots of wolves. Looking through the scope at the new mom enjoying some sunshine with pups still in the den, I got tears in my eyes and was filled with an emotion hard to describe. What were these tears about anyway? I was filled with a joy that these magnificently beautiful wild things are back in Yellowstone and doing well, but it was more personal. I have been incredibly drawn to wolves as long as I can remember. The closest I’d come to that feeling of complete wildness was listening to coyotes going after prey in the “wilds” of the Santa Monica Mountains in Southern California in the early 70s. But I’ve always wanted to see—and hear—wolves in the wild.

On our way from the hotel in Cooke City heading to Lamar Valley, we were able to watch a male moose with his antlers just starting to re-emerge down at Soda Butte Creek in Round Valley. I felt it was a sign we would be blessed with many wonderful more sitings on this special first full day in Yellowstone.

We arrived really quite early—just barely getting light—but there were already hardy wolf watcher citizen scientist volunteers at “Bob’s Knob” in Slough Creek. Everyone was incredibly helpful and let us watch through their more high-end scopes.

As I sat on that knoll yesterday in the Lamar Valley of Yellowstone National Park, I felt so very privileged to experience such a spectacular site.

The morning light increased as we kept watching and learning, and I knew this was the absolute perfect way to start my summer in Yellowstone. We watched as one of the mothers left her den and pups for a short bit of fresh air and sunshine, we watched at least 6-7 yearlings chasing each other around as the older black looked on, even joining in the play a little bit, and—incredibly—watched as 3-4 of them were chasing some of the elk with no success. They’re getting older now and are expected to help out with the feeding of the moms and pups.

As I sat there on that knoll watching this scene unfold in the famous valley of the wolves I’ve only read and heard about for years, I was struck by not only the amazing stark beauty of this special place, but it felt like a scene from the Tanzanian Serengeti Plains.

There were the wolves, a grizzly crossing in the low valley, and then all the huge bison and calves, pronghorn and elk—and of course the ever-present ravens. What a scene! I understand “they” really do call it the “Serengeti of Yellowstone.” I don’t remember hearing it called that, but my guess is I probably did hear or read it—but certainly didn’t recall that as I watched this scene taking place before me on May 1st 2016—but I can certainly see why it would be referred to in that way.

I’ve arrived and am ready to start work here in Yellowstone National Park tomorrow, and am so blessed to be spending my summer over the next five months being able to show these kinds of scenes—or even a tiny little part of it—to people from all over the world. I think it was a perfect way to begin my summer watching the wolves of Yellowstone.

 

Yellowstone was being called “Wonderland” before it became our first National Park in 1872. And I am filled with wonder the more I learn about its history, its spectacular geysers, and the entire Greater Yellowstone Ecosystem. Yellowstone takes up over 3,000 square miles in the northwest corner of Wyoming. We are so blessed that this entire area has been preserved—certainly not without lots of controversies and challenges—but nonetheless it is still protected.

Yellowstone is as wondrous as it is complex, and I look forward to learning even more. This summer will be the 100th Anniversary of the National Park Service and it’s going to be busy! Talk about having to hit the ground running!

So much to learn . . . to take in. Reading as much as possible now so I’m better prepared for all I’m still to learn once up there . . . The history. The geology, including over 10,000 hydrothermal features and more than 300 geysers. Learning how their “plumbing” works and the difference between geysers, hot springs, fumaroles and mud pots. I stayed in the historic Old Faithful Inn about three years ago and found the entire Upper Geyser Basin and other areas so amazing.

 

 

Thermophiles . . .

 

 

 

Bison

 

 

 

Grizzlies         

Elk  . . .

   

 

Bald Eagles    

Ospreys . . . oh my.

 

 

And then there’s the Wolves! I’ve been so mesmerized by wolves my entire life and now I’m going to have opportunities to watch them for real—not in books, pictures, videos or movies. I do believe that is my main joy, love and excitement about spending the summer actually living in Yellowstone . . . to see wolves for myself! And since the Wolves were restored to Yellowstone in 1995, studies are showing a greater biodiversity throughout the Ecosystem.

I start May 3rd and the entire rest of the month is all about learning as much as possible before my tours begin in June and all the folks start arriving. Getting myself prepared has been such a labor of love. And then to have an opportunity to inspire others about nature and wilderness areas. Perhaps showing someone their first Wolf, Bald Eagle or Osprey, high mountain Wildflower or the Old Faithful geyser.

It will be different. Leaving my low-desert home for the mountains of Wyoming over 7,000 feet up in a dorm room. And I love cooking and will only be eating in the Employee Dining Room for five months. But, then, as Neale Donald Walsh puts it, “Life begins at the end of your comfort zone.” So I’m off on my next Big Adventure, looking forward to the many things I’ll be learning, new experiences I’ll be having, and the people from all over the world and walks of life with whom I’ll be sharing this “Wonderland.”

Perhaps my Big Adventure will inspire others to try something new in their own lives. To finally do that something they’ve always dreamed of doing but were maybe too scared to try. I’m going beyond my comfort zone because I want to see and do more things in this wonderful life!

In this Wonderland!        

How appropriate that I should receive this wonderful caricature from my niece, Brianna, today. It marks the fact that I’m leaving in one week for Yellowstone—off to work for the summer doing tours in our first National Park! I’m excited and a little terrified at the same time. I’ve been feverishly “boning up”—reading all the books I can find on the birds, wildflowers, mammals and geology of Yellowstone, along with the thick “Yellowstone Resources and Issues” received from them. I think this little piece of artwork from my very talented niece is so appropriate for my next Big Adventure. Thank you Brianna!

The picture of me with my binoculars on the blog masthead is pretty typical of me. There’s everyone else facing forward waiting patiently for the Yellowstone geyser to go off. And then there’s me. I’m the one, as usual, going or doing the total opposite of most everyone else. I’m looking at the exquisitely beautiful and total enamoring Osprey circling overhead, looking for its next fish to eat.

As a kid, when dad would come home from drinking, my sister would run for the bedroom and close the door. Her motto: Get the heck outta there as quick as possible! Me? I’d run for the door and could absolutely tell if he’d been drinking. If he had been drinking, it was my main goal in life to literally pick a fight with him!

Of course, at that young age I had no clue I was doing that. It was only in my young adult years of groups, workshops and therapies of trying to understand the alcoholism in my family that I realized what I had been doing. As dad was getting closer to having to retire from the military, the way he dealt with his fear of how he’d take care of his family, including five kids, was to drink. All he’d ever known was the military way of life since he was a young man. His drinking became worse and the alcoholism increased the closer he got to retirement. Dad had also never talked about the atrocities he’d experienced in World War II as a young man of 18 years. It wasn’t until his senior years he shared with any of us the results of having never dealt with seeing all the killing and dying as a young man fresh off the farm. Luckily for all of us, dad quit drinking when I was only 18 myself.

So, somehow I grew up being the rebel—whether that was through angry outbursts or interminable depressions. I always seemed to go the opposite of others in my family or community.

I’ve shared how my usual MO was to be fearful, but I’d always eventually face the fear head on—whether that be meeting dad at the front door as he came home from drinking, or learning to rappel down off a high cliff or parasailing in Mexico . . .  I’d eventually do it.

So all these adventures I’ve led myself on over the years have led me back to Yellowstone once again. I leave in three weeks to live in and do tours working in Yellowstone National Park for five months this summer. I’ll be a tour guide driving those restored yellow touring cars or a “step-on” tour guide for large tour buses coming into the Park.

I was—as usual—fearful: Could I do this? Would I be good enough? Will I remember everything there is to share with everyone? But as I eventually do, I faced the fears of “What if?” with “Yes! Of course I can!” I’ve been doing tours at the Desert Botanical Garden since 2008 and have a national certification that says I’m qualified to do so. I enjoy people and love getting them excited and interested in nature. I think I’m up to the task—and everyday get more excited about my next “Big Adventure.”

Over the next number of months it’s my hope here to share with you pictures and stories about this new adventure. Who knows, maybe you’ll become encouraged to have your own next Big Adventure!

As a kid, my favorite little “trick” to get out of doing the dishes: I’d “have to go” to the bathroom. In those days we’d put all the leftovers out on to newspapers and toss it in the trash (why we didn’t save them to eat later is beyond me). One time I’d come back from my very-important bathroom run and my mom and sister, Marian, had already started cleaning the kitchen (which, of course, was the plan). I came in telling them of some oh-so-important discovery while in “The Throne Room” and sat right down on the chair holding the newspaper full of leftovers—that night being a batch of leftover mashed potatoes. I realized what I’d done as soon as I’d sat down and immediately stood up. There on the chair of mashed potato leftovers was this perfect impression of my butt! My sister was laughing so hard she was rolling on the floor! Mom and I looked at each other and the flabbergasted looks quickly turned to uproarious laughter.

 

 

 

 

 

My little get-out-of-work “trick” had backfired on me! I have absolutely no idea if I kept using my “trick” but I’m sure once I finally returned to the kitchen I’d now be paying much closer attention to where I sat!

What do I celebrate? That I made it!  Looking back, it’s hard to believe that this happy little girl

actually seriously contemplated doing herself in many times in her life! (Which way would be the easiest? Which way would bring the least pain?)

 

But what I celebrate today—and hopefully everyday of my life—is a trust in the God who helped me through some of the darkest times in my life. I celebrate me. And who I am today . . . so very far from those younger years when everything seemed so very overwhelming and endless.  I celebrate I kept going. I didn’t give in to those thoughts of self-doubt and -loathing.

I celebrate that my life today is about the joy and love of the life all around me.

 

I celebrate that I kept trusting God and myself that some day—eventually—it would be better. It seemed to take most of my life—but the important part is . . . I made it! Today I am a joyful and happy person.

I love to laugh and tease. I celebrate my partnership and I celebrate the person I’ve become. Through such darkness to such joy is truly something indeed worth celebrating. Good for me!

Life couldn’t be more perfect: I’m comfortably propped up on a bench—with a backrest no less—watching the hillside at “my” Desert Botanical Garden!

 

 

The bees are buzzing all around the Chuparosa beside me with its intense yellow-rather-than-red-flowers.

A Curve-billed Thrasher is calling from the top of a Saguaro.

A Gila Woodpecker is carrying on somewhere behind me.

When younger, I could rarely just sit quietly like this. To still my mind—the incessant chatter—long enough to actually hear the buzz of the bees. I used to “bee” so “buzzed” myself that I couldn’t just hang out and take it all in . . .  To notice the clouds passing overhead. To be so in tune with practically every little nook and cranny of the hillside that I’d notice immediately if there was something up there—a Red-Tailed Hawk, a Roadrunner preparing for the brood

or a Western Screech Owl peeking out of a Saguaro

or the Round-Tailed Ground Squirrel sounding an alarm,

and to know the sound I’m hearing is the Ladderback Woodpecker’s squeak.

It’s so pleasant not to hear my mind-chatter. I can hear and see and notice now activities going on around me.

I distinctly and fondly remember the first time I started learning to observe things around me. It was the early 70s and I was with my friend Bob. We’d flown in a sea plane over to Lake Kathleen on Admiralty Island in Alaska.

We hiked out into the forest near the cabin; he with his camera and telephoto lens and I with binoculars. We sat—like I am now—only propped up against a tree, back to back.  He said, “Let’s just sit here quietly, start noticing, and see what we see.”

At first I thought, “This is crazy. There’s nothing out here. It’s too quiet. Nothing’s happening!” But, then, after awhile—once that mind-chatter started to relax—I became aware of hearing this incessant sound, but only intermittently. Then I noticed, right about that same time, there was movement too. Soon I realized that movement was a bird flying to the same area in a regular, yet intermittent pattern. I had noticed my first bird! Then I noticed there was something in a tree. Oh, my goodness! Could that be a nest? It was a Cardinal I later learned and she was taking food to her little brood. And I found it!