Highlights from Yellowstone

It was September and we were spending a long weekend visiting my sister in Bozeman. It was my first time there, and although I expected a charming small town, I was impressed by the quiet loveliness of the area. Every house we passed had a well tended garden with flowerbeds overwhelmed with color. The homes themselves were mostly craftsman or Victorian, and I was impressed by how beautifully maintained they were given the severity of the winters they faced. Bozeman felt like an idealized picture book version of a town. Like something you would see on a postcard.

I hadn’t been to Yellowstone since I was a kid - and A never had been - so early one morning the three of us packed ourselves into the car and drove through the rolling green hills of Montana to the west gate of the park. As we drove through the entrance we joined a long caravan of cars packed with visitors. Together, we cruised through the park, checking off each landmark on the map. We slowed our cars to watch a nearby buffalo, and parked together on the side of the road when a coyote was spotted across a creek. We watched Old Faithful together in awe and admired boiling mud pots and shimmering geysers as they showed off their jewel-toned interiors.

Generally, it feels like you go the parks for a bit of an escape, but there is something to being around a big group of people that have traveled from all over the world to appreciate nature. Like you all recognize the intrinsic value of coyotes and waterfalls and mud pots and wildflowers, and you know that it is worth the journey to catch a glimpse of one. The feeling of connectedness it inspired was oddly humbling. As we drove back to Bozeman, I felt grateful to those that established the park and those who worked so hard to preserve it- a place that connects us to nature but also to each other.