August 4, 2009
We came back to Sanctuary via Jackson Hole and the Grand Teton National Park, accessed by driving through Yellowstone. The inevitable gathering of cars blocking off the road disgourging people running with cameras to capture the essence of a single moose occurred as it has every time we have driven through the park. We have never joined this group, though the day may come when we sit here on a winter’s evening and say, “If only we had gotten a picture of that moose last summer”. Perhaps not.
We have driven the Rockefeller Parkway through the Grand Teton Park a number of times, but we had not stopped before, and this time we wanted to spend a bit of time by one of the lakes and view those incredibly photogenic mountains. Looking at all the boats lined up and awaiting the travelers who would board them to either fish or go across the water to hike up into the valleys, I wished that we had come sooner in our life times when we might have put on backpacks and trekked forth to the snow lines. There were many warnings about the presence of bears, and the stores had classy mace containers with which one might spray a bear and then commence to flee should that be necessary. Before, when we went camping with the children in these sorts of places, we had bear bells that we could ring while walking and singing, sounding like demented monks and driving away all possible wildlife in the area – I have no recollections of meeting either bird or beast on those hikes.
Sanctuary remains green and dense with growth everywhere, presenting us with a very different place than the sweeping vistas of Montana, Wyoming and western Nebraska. We have also had humid and warm weather, another contrast to the cooler, dryer air of the mountains. Yet it is grand to be home with ripe tomatoes, cucumbers, and zucchini from the garden and a happy Alphie running ahead on the paths. The grasses and wild flowers in the meadow are full of many colors and textures, and they bear names that attest to their variety – Fleabane, Partridge Pea, Goldenrod, Ironweed, Blazing Star, Panic Grass, Big Bluestem, Switchgrass, Side-Oats Grama and Indian Grass. This is not a complete list, but it does illustrate that a prairie land is anything but a simple green.
The trip was more tiring than I anticipated, with an intensification of the bone and muscle pain, and an ongoing unease about the possibility of infections that might come forth in unexpected ways. I wore the surgical mask whenever inside with gatherings of people, and we avoided nearly all restaurants with Charles becoming the king of carry-out. I was mostly able to tune out the inner sound track that would begin to complain when I would smile at a child only to be met with a look of caution because of my mask. Children in general had to be avoided because of their potential for communicable sicknesses. This is a loss to me since I do enjoy them with their nearly new brains, wonderful energy and capacity for delight.
August brings a shift in the focus of families; now it is time to gather the school supplies and prepare for the next year of educational activities. After teaching many years, this rhythm remains strong for me, and even in uncertain times, I anticipate the next season with gratitude for all the good things past and hope for the days ahead.