Beartooth Highway

The past few days have, for me, been filled again with Montana.  Specifically the valleys just northeast of the Beartooth/Absaroka range of the Rockies.  Yesterday our country gave an entire day to a remembrance many of us make far more often during the year in honor of the people who have given their lives in service to this country.  On that day I stood in the Lamar Valley of Yellowstone, the country’s first National Park.  I caw Bison with brand new calves — hours, days, at most a few weeks old.  I saw evidence of Prong Horn, Moose and Wolves.  I saw Ravens and Magpies all held in a verdant stretch of valley I forget is possible beyond fantasy, until I’m here.  That’s when I remember that along with the individuals and families, the communities and cities of our nation, those who have given their lives to serve us — whether on these lands or in other countries, whether military or civilian — have also been acting to protect, defend and ensure the well being of the land upon which we live.

I knew gratitude in every step yesterday– with every mile, with all its breath and effort for moving my oh-so-fortunate body through this land we prize in its wildness.  Walking this land beneath its wide, bright sky I remembered again that the wilderness of our country is vital to the heart of who we are as a nation.  Today and likely every day for a good while – I will remember this particular magnificence and I will know my boundless gratitude to all who have served across the history of our country and across the vast sweep of time before the dawn of the United States to protect and care for it.