Discovering the Wild

I really insist on writing the Wild with a capital "W".

It is a personal thing. I wanted to keep this blog as neutral as possible, but I cannot help writing about this experience. It simply is too strong.

When I came to the Rockies 9 years ago, I was overwhelmed by the beauty of the scenery. We visited several national parks, and all have their own typicality and they compete in grandeur and magnificence. Glacier National Park was my husband's favourite, but I felt dwarfened by the giant mountains around me and an uncomfortable feeling nibbled at my stomach. Peaks too high, canyons too deep for the small human being in me. Yellowstone, on the other hand, had enchanted me. I was curious to find out how this second encounter would work.

Well, I cannot begin to describe it. My English vocabulary is far too limited and even in my mothertongue I would be short of words. The same fantastic feeling grabbed hold of me. The space, the neverending horizon, the mountains, the river, the trees, the flowers, they seemed to embrace me, to call me, to invite me in.

Bruce would go on a morning hike and agreed for me to join him. Jose Luis, Sengly and Dave came along too. We decided to take the Beaver Pond trail. We had hardly left the buildings behind us and there appeared the first elk. I didn't count them, there were many and they didn't seem bothered by our intrusion. Meeting an animal at daybreak in its own habitat is a special privilege. It is as if nature gives you a bonus. It makes you wonder how you deserve this. It makes you realise you can be part of it. It makes you feel humble and grateful.

After an hour we realised that the loop would be too long to finish this morning and we headed back to the hotel. My heart was singing. Yellowstone was opening its arms to me again.