Forty years ago I was winding down my long season as a park employee in Yellowstone National Park. I had arrived the first week of May that year, just a day after the park opened, and I stayed on to the middle of October, just two weeks before it closed for the season. I spent the whole time working for a concessionaire, Yellowstone Park Service Stations, at their Canyon Village location.
The end of September was a quiet time in the park, and beautiful beyond words. Warm days, cold nights, golden aspen mixed among the dark ridges of pine. The bulk of the summer crowds had returned home, and it felt like we had the park to ourselves. Us and the animals, all in our last preparations for winter.
I couldn’t have known it then, but the most life-changing encounter of the whole year, perhaps the most momentous event of my entire life, was about to come (I’ll discuss that in my next post). In the meantime, I relished every day, every moment of my final weeks in America’s iconic national park.
[Daily post 070 of 260 in my year-long challenge.] ♨