In search of
As we walked out of the art gallery at the Whitney Museum portion of the Buffalo Bill Center of the West, my mother noticed a do-it-yourself postcard making station. She asked me if I'd like to make one, because in my mom's eyes, I'm still someplace around seven years old. My mother once gave my face a spit bath, in front of my wife....but that's another story for another time. I told her that, no, some people paint pictures, and others paint pictures with words.
In your mind's eye, you know you can see your mom spitting on her finger and wiping whatever it was off your face. She just probably never did it when you were in your early 40s, and that mental picture either made you laugh or go "eeewwww". But you get the idea.
I cannot draw. I cannot play an instrument. I will never be able to paint a picture with words like James Mitchner. Want to know what I'm talking about? Read Hawaii. That's the kind of literary genius that I was thinking of when I said that.
Can I paint a picture for you? The sky is an azure blue, dotted with puffy white clouds that resemble mounds of cotton candy, playing peek-a-boo with the sun. A man is driving along a winding two lane road, trying to spot wildlife while trying to not become a hazard to himself or others. Out of the corner of his eye, the man notices a bird start to fly across the road. He notices first, the size of the bird's silhouette against the backdrop of the sky. It's a raptor, he decides, judging by the size of the outline. As the bird and car come closer to each other, he sees the bird's white head. "Look, it's a bald eagle!" he shouts as his foot simultaneously hits the brake pedal. As the man slows, the bird flies off. With a final look over his left shoulder, he notices the bird has something clutched in its' talons. The bird had just plucked a trout from the Madison river and was carrying his lunch off. The fish, the man noted in his mind, was still writhing, and still very much alive.
Or picture yourself as the fish...one minute, you're just swimming along in the river which is your home. You've eluded some strange looking things in your day, and seen these giant creatures with poles trying to trick you into eating something. You've seen your friends do that and be pulled along with some odd things toward the large creatures. But you, you're the smart one. You've never fallen for that. One second you're looking for bugs to eat and the next thing you know, you're in excruciating pain and being carried off. Before you have time to realize what's going on, you're gulping for air because no water is going through your gills, You look through your fish eye and whatever's taken you from your home is now taking you above the big green things you've seen through the water that has been your home. And there is this big silver thing....and the pain, and then everything goes black.
Those aren't masterpiece pictures. At best they're second rate comic strips, but that was the sight I saw today from the road that runs along the Madison river as we were heading out of Yellowstone National Park toward West Yellowstone, Montana.
The eagle flew right over the top of the windshield and as I looked back, I saw it had a fish in its' talons. The fish was still squirming. Seconds before, it had been swimming in the Madison.
At Old Faithful, we arrived about ten minutes before the predicted eruption time. By the time we arrived at the geyser, we waited maybe three minutes, and just as it had a million times before, the geyser erupted. There were the usual "OOHS and AHHHS" as the water started out slow, then climbed skyward. Old faithful goes for about two minutes. There is another geyser a short distance from Old Faithful that erupts, I'm told, twice a day, and is unpredictable. I've seen the cone, but never have I seen the geyser erupt.
Until today.
It erupts much higher, with much more force, and with a longer duration than Old Faithful. The geyser, and I don't know the name...yet... erupts like a flame coming out of the afterburner section of a jet engine. It was that forceful and it was spectacular. Old Faithful is cool. This thing was spectacular.
A man standing next to us mentioned that he'd been coming to Yellowstone for 40 years, and he'd never seen that geyser erupt. There were hundreds of people gathered around to see Old Faithful. A handful of them saw what was waiting around the corner because they took the time to look.
Those who did were blessed.
On Friday, as we approached the Canyon area junction, where the forest opens into some meadows, we noticed several cars lining both sides of the road. It's not unusual to see animals in this area. In the past I've seen a bull moose on the road we were on. Usually there are deer, or elk, or even the odd buffalo or two in the area, so the line of cars didn't surprise me. What did surprise me is what I saw when I got to where the people were gawking. They were looking at a very large adult grizzly bear.
I have never seen a grizzly bear in Yellowstone National Park. Until Friday.
Our brand of America is very different in the west than it is back east. In the west, we rodeo. We shoot guns. We drive big trucks. We're used to a six hour drive to go someplace. Wide open spaces are usually only a 30 minute drive from anywhere, and mountains are our home. We believe in God. We often don't live like it, but most of us hold that deep seated idea that we're beholden to our Creator, even though we forget to let our lives reflect it. Two things, and in the appropriate sequence happened at the Cody Nite Rodeo on Saturday.
A prayer was given, for the fans, the cowboys and cowgirls, and the livestock. Honor and glory were given to God for His creation and our part of enjoying it where we were. Blessings were asked for, in the name of the Savior. God still has a place in America. I found it at the Cody Night Rodeo.
The second thing was that some Americans proudly sang our National Anthem. Yellowstone country draws many foreign visitors, as do the national parks in our southern half. In Cody on Saturday, they were treated to Americans first praying for, and then singing about, our flag and our Nation, as a mounted rider held Old Glory for all to see.
I love the west.
It's little things, too, like sitting by the pool and watching a cottontail rabbit munching on a yarrow plant. Rabbits run free on the range, and I got as much a kick out of watching the bunny have its' lunch as I did watching the two deer munching my rose bushes the other day. Next spring, I'm planting chokecherries.
I'm not Mitchner. I never will be. I cannot find the artsy words to tell you how I spotted, while driving about 30 mph, a bald eagle sitting atop a dead tree in the Hayden Valley, next to the Yellowstone River. I can thank KP for teaching me how to spot wildlife (road hunt 101 graduate!) because all I saw was the white head, and I instantly knew what I was looking at.
White didn't belong where it was, which is how I found the eagle on Friday in the first place.
The trip, which was so unexpected and so badly needed, was such a blessing. My mom and I spent some quality time together and it was good. We had fun. We enjoyed life. Although my heart was missing my boys and Cindy equally, I still had a good time. The museum was amazing and I hope to return again soon. Seeing a Thomas Moran original painting was worth the price of admission. Seeing Remington originals, well that was the cherry on an already overflowing sundae.
So, in the midst of all the wonder, there is God, in whose creation, I found myself at a loss for the right words to describe either it or Him. How do you describe a forest you saw decimated by fire in 1988 that is now green and thriving again? How do you explain to someone the majesty of seeing a symbol of the country you loved and served flying through said forest with his lunch dangling in his feet? Death gives way to life. a fish died so a bird could live. It's the balance of an ecosystem that couldn't have just happened by random chance. It's the forceful power on display as a geyser literally blasts a stream of water at least a hundred feet into the air. How do you find the right words to pay homage to the God who created both it and us? And as we see death give way to life, even to us (that steak you're eating used to be a living, breathing creature too), every day, why do so many refuse to accept that one Man's death, this Jesus, died on a cross that we might have life?
I'm in awe that God has time for me. That His blessing was on my road trip and I saw the wondrous things I did. Not even Shakespeare himself could find the words to describe the awe and reverence I have for Him. And the thankfulness for blessing me with living my life in this beautiful part of the country.
In your mind's eye, you know you can see your mom spitting on her finger and wiping whatever it was off your face. She just probably never did it when you were in your early 40s, and that mental picture either made you laugh or go "eeewwww". But you get the idea.
I cannot draw. I cannot play an instrument. I will never be able to paint a picture with words like James Mitchner. Want to know what I'm talking about? Read Hawaii. That's the kind of literary genius that I was thinking of when I said that.
Can I paint a picture for you? The sky is an azure blue, dotted with puffy white clouds that resemble mounds of cotton candy, playing peek-a-boo with the sun. A man is driving along a winding two lane road, trying to spot wildlife while trying to not become a hazard to himself or others. Out of the corner of his eye, the man notices a bird start to fly across the road. He notices first, the size of the bird's silhouette against the backdrop of the sky. It's a raptor, he decides, judging by the size of the outline. As the bird and car come closer to each other, he sees the bird's white head. "Look, it's a bald eagle!" he shouts as his foot simultaneously hits the brake pedal. As the man slows, the bird flies off. With a final look over his left shoulder, he notices the bird has something clutched in its' talons. The bird had just plucked a trout from the Madison river and was carrying his lunch off. The fish, the man noted in his mind, was still writhing, and still very much alive.
Or picture yourself as the fish...one minute, you're just swimming along in the river which is your home. You've eluded some strange looking things in your day, and seen these giant creatures with poles trying to trick you into eating something. You've seen your friends do that and be pulled along with some odd things toward the large creatures. But you, you're the smart one. You've never fallen for that. One second you're looking for bugs to eat and the next thing you know, you're in excruciating pain and being carried off. Before you have time to realize what's going on, you're gulping for air because no water is going through your gills, You look through your fish eye and whatever's taken you from your home is now taking you above the big green things you've seen through the water that has been your home. And there is this big silver thing....and the pain, and then everything goes black.
Those aren't masterpiece pictures. At best they're second rate comic strips, but that was the sight I saw today from the road that runs along the Madison river as we were heading out of Yellowstone National Park toward West Yellowstone, Montana.
The eagle flew right over the top of the windshield and as I looked back, I saw it had a fish in its' talons. The fish was still squirming. Seconds before, it had been swimming in the Madison.
At Old Faithful, we arrived about ten minutes before the predicted eruption time. By the time we arrived at the geyser, we waited maybe three minutes, and just as it had a million times before, the geyser erupted. There were the usual "OOHS and AHHHS" as the water started out slow, then climbed skyward. Old faithful goes for about two minutes. There is another geyser a short distance from Old Faithful that erupts, I'm told, twice a day, and is unpredictable. I've seen the cone, but never have I seen the geyser erupt.
Until today.
It erupts much higher, with much more force, and with a longer duration than Old Faithful. The geyser, and I don't know the name...yet... erupts like a flame coming out of the afterburner section of a jet engine. It was that forceful and it was spectacular. Old Faithful is cool. This thing was spectacular.
A man standing next to us mentioned that he'd been coming to Yellowstone for 40 years, and he'd never seen that geyser erupt. There were hundreds of people gathered around to see Old Faithful. A handful of them saw what was waiting around the corner because they took the time to look.
Those who did were blessed.
On Friday, as we approached the Canyon area junction, where the forest opens into some meadows, we noticed several cars lining both sides of the road. It's not unusual to see animals in this area. In the past I've seen a bull moose on the road we were on. Usually there are deer, or elk, or even the odd buffalo or two in the area, so the line of cars didn't surprise me. What did surprise me is what I saw when I got to where the people were gawking. They were looking at a very large adult grizzly bear.
I have never seen a grizzly bear in Yellowstone National Park. Until Friday.
Our brand of America is very different in the west than it is back east. In the west, we rodeo. We shoot guns. We drive big trucks. We're used to a six hour drive to go someplace. Wide open spaces are usually only a 30 minute drive from anywhere, and mountains are our home. We believe in God. We often don't live like it, but most of us hold that deep seated idea that we're beholden to our Creator, even though we forget to let our lives reflect it. Two things, and in the appropriate sequence happened at the Cody Nite Rodeo on Saturday.
A prayer was given, for the fans, the cowboys and cowgirls, and the livestock. Honor and glory were given to God for His creation and our part of enjoying it where we were. Blessings were asked for, in the name of the Savior. God still has a place in America. I found it at the Cody Night Rodeo.
The second thing was that some Americans proudly sang our National Anthem. Yellowstone country draws many foreign visitors, as do the national parks in our southern half. In Cody on Saturday, they were treated to Americans first praying for, and then singing about, our flag and our Nation, as a mounted rider held Old Glory for all to see.
I love the west.
It's little things, too, like sitting by the pool and watching a cottontail rabbit munching on a yarrow plant. Rabbits run free on the range, and I got as much a kick out of watching the bunny have its' lunch as I did watching the two deer munching my rose bushes the other day. Next spring, I'm planting chokecherries.
I'm not Mitchner. I never will be. I cannot find the artsy words to tell you how I spotted, while driving about 30 mph, a bald eagle sitting atop a dead tree in the Hayden Valley, next to the Yellowstone River. I can thank KP for teaching me how to spot wildlife (road hunt 101 graduate!) because all I saw was the white head, and I instantly knew what I was looking at.
White didn't belong where it was, which is how I found the eagle on Friday in the first place.
The trip, which was so unexpected and so badly needed, was such a blessing. My mom and I spent some quality time together and it was good. We had fun. We enjoyed life. Although my heart was missing my boys and Cindy equally, I still had a good time. The museum was amazing and I hope to return again soon. Seeing a Thomas Moran original painting was worth the price of admission. Seeing Remington originals, well that was the cherry on an already overflowing sundae.
So, in the midst of all the wonder, there is God, in whose creation, I found myself at a loss for the right words to describe either it or Him. How do you describe a forest you saw decimated by fire in 1988 that is now green and thriving again? How do you explain to someone the majesty of seeing a symbol of the country you loved and served flying through said forest with his lunch dangling in his feet? Death gives way to life. a fish died so a bird could live. It's the balance of an ecosystem that couldn't have just happened by random chance. It's the forceful power on display as a geyser literally blasts a stream of water at least a hundred feet into the air. How do you find the right words to pay homage to the God who created both it and us? And as we see death give way to life, even to us (that steak you're eating used to be a living, breathing creature too), every day, why do so many refuse to accept that one Man's death, this Jesus, died on a cross that we might have life?
I'm in awe that God has time for me. That His blessing was on my road trip and I saw the wondrous things I did. Not even Shakespeare himself could find the words to describe the awe and reverence I have for Him. And the thankfulness for blessing me with living my life in this beautiful part of the country.
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