We just returned from Grand Teton and Yellowstone National Parks. Hiking. Rafting. Exploring. I was transfixed by this backdrop.
We stopped at every observation point to inhale the majesty of this place. At first these peaks don’t seem real, the way they pop up out of the earth.
The mountains are immense, expansive, glorious. The land goes on and on. Thank God for our National Parks and the 1964 Wilderness Act, for all the lands they protect, and for our Senior Passes (62 gets you one).
Driving the single lane road between the two adjacent parks, we stopped behind a line of cars. Was someone in trouble? An accident? Then we saw them, a pair of bison, creatures bigger than our car meandering down the road. We were intruding on their property.
The park is home to living things of all sizes. From moose (yes, we so one) to grizzlies (no, we didn’t) to Archaea (single-celled organisms) living in the deep blues of this extremely hot (199 degrees F) pool in the Geyser Basin.
We lingered as long as we could on our last day, not wanting to take our eyes off the mountains. A red-tailed hawk soared, circled and flew off toward the mountains reminding us these lands are not ours. We are just the current trustees.
At one point, we came across this sign:
This is a disturbing reality of climate change. Two things you can do.
1) Donate to the Park Service. Here’s a link. Yes, I know Trump gave his first quarter paycheck ($78,333) to the parks (designated to preserve battlefields), but this does nothing, zilch, nada to offset his proposed $1.5 billion cut to the Interior Department.
2) Protest Trump’s heartless budget (if you needed another reason) and protect the parks for present and future generations.