Old Faithful…

On Thursday I found myself on a chauffeur driven trip just up the road to Yellowstone National Park.  My friend Karen not only did the driving, but her time here has turned her into an expert in the area.  I only wish I could remember half of what she told me as were toured the park.

Entering from the south entrance the first major area we reached was Old Faithful.  Karen says that she has a knack for just missing the eruption, but not this time.  I took my first picture as we walked from the parking lot for fear that I’d miss it altogether.  And then another, and another.  There is a boardwalk that lets you walk among the geysers and springs, and each direction you look has you gasping in amazement (not so much the altitude, that’s getting better).  As you walk you can’t help but notice the sulfur odor, as you find your self amazed at all the geysers, big ones and tiny little ones, evidence of eruptions under your feet as it the place has a life of it’s own.  Which I suppose it does.  Karen pointed out the buffalo hoof marks in the land between the geysers.  Some buffalo prefer to roam this area, eating vegetation which grows in this odd environment.  And these buffalo don’t live as long as they might, the grasses have minerals which wear their teeth more quickly than other diets would.  Just one of the many lessons of the day for me.  Rivers also rise from this area on their way to the sea.  I suppose they join other rivers and lakes on their way, but they are born here.

Our photography guru, Jeff, once pointedly commented that he always crops his pictures to further emphasize the subject of the photo.  I felt like he was talking just to me.  But some of these photos were so nice, I thought, and included the colors, the rivers, the historic Old Faithful Inn, and I couldn’t bear to crop.  Maybe that’s one of the joys of this stage of life, breaking the rules that you obsessively followed all your life.  It seems to be working for me…