Bozeman MT
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Bozeman is charming; tall trees lining the streets, all aglow with fall color, snow capped mountains just to the north and south, a quaint and vibrant downtown with local businesses housed in red brick buildings, and the warmth of dear friends opening their home and hearth to a weary traveler…
Actually, I’m not really weary. I have come to thoroughly enjoy this trip in a way I had hoped for, but hadn’t fully anticipated. I’m relishing the solitary nature of my adventure; the absence of other voices and competing desires. There is an appreciation of my own company, my own deepening sense of clarity regarding the pace and rhythm where I feel most alive, most connected to a wholeness in the natural world, and within myself. I am so grateful for the opportunity to be able to live from that place.
My time in Yellowstone was magical. The coldness and snow that had already fallen brought the animals out in full force. The landscape was breathtaking and absent roads, buildings, electrical wires, all the accouterments of our modern culture. There were also few people, so I could easily drive the roads at 20 mph, viewing the landscape and more easily spotting wildlife. One morning I spotted a Golden Eagle atop a tall conifer. The evening before, I pulled over to where there were a number of people with telescopes, and had the enormous good fortune to view a Grizzly Bear. What an amazing treat! As I gazed in that spot, at one point within the circle of view of my binoculars were a grizzly, a bison, and a coyote. That surely doesn’t happen every day.
On my way back to the campsite I pulled over again. A woman had spotted a wolf pack atop a snow covered ridge, just as the sun was setting. The wolves were playing, and actually sliding down the steep peak. It wasn’t easy to make them out as they were a distance away in elevation. But through my binoculars there was no mistaking the silhouettes of their howling stances, and their playfulness coming down the slope. How lucky I felt…
The next afternoon, as I was packing things up, three huge bison ambled through my campsite, no more than 15 feet from where I was standing. I left the Lamar Valley, truly one of the most beautiful places I have seen, feeling the enormity of life’s abundance, and deep gratitude.
I was sure that I had seen all I was going to see on this trip, when I noticed a number of cars pulled to the side of the road, just as I was approaching the bridge over the Yellowstone River. As I hurried down the hill to the bridge, I had the amazing good fortune to spot another Grizzly. Someone remarked he had to have weighed around 600 pounds. He was below us, on the riverbank, but much closer than the one I had seen the night before. He ambled over to the edge of the river, and slipped in for a swim. Oh my! What a sight… Once he got out the man next to me offered for me to look through his telescope. The image was so clear it was as if I were standing only a few feet away. I could see the drops of water that flew free as he shook his head to dry off. What an amazing beast, so awesome as he took his afternoon dip in the clear mountain runoff…
On the way out of the park I got to view a Big Horn Sheep climbing along a rock wall. Driving north through Paradise valley, from Gardiner to Livingston, Montana was stunning. I remember now why I was drawn west all those years ago. The sky, the vastness, the beauty out here is enormous, and it fills me with a sense of aliveness and wonder that is hard to put into words.
Now I am in the warmth and comfort of my friends’ home. We spent last evening, and most of today together with the easiness that happens between friends of the heart. A gentle way for me to stretch back into human relationship after spending so much time on my own. Tomorrow I will join them in Billings, MO for the Mountain Desert District‘s annual meeting of our Unitarian Universalist faith. There will be 200 people attending, and I will need to call up my socialization skills for a few days. I will be glad to connect with friends from around the district, as well as to meet new like minded and hearted folk. I will also look forward to my final days of lone adventuring before I head back toward home and my husband’s loving arms.
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Dear Lorian Once again from Living On Earth Steve, Curwoods guest Montgomery-Fate. I hope you enjoy this short piece.....Love Dave
Modern Thoreau
CURWOOD: ““Walden,”” by Henry David Thoreau, is considered one of the most important pieces of 19th century American literature. And it remains immensely popular, even in today's fast paced society. Commentator Tom-Montgomery Fate explains why this might be.
MONTGOMERY-FATE: This month, I've been re-reading Thoreau's journal, ““Walden.”” How can a book written in the middle of the 19th century, before electricity and cars and indoor plumbing be so current, so predictive of the risks of unbridled technology and affluence. Thoreau lived alone for about two years in a cabin he built himself on land that belonged to his friend, Ralph Waldo Emerson.
"I would rather sit alone on a pumpkin than be crowded on a velvet cushion," he writes. Thoreau powerfully captures a resilient hope rooted in his deep connection to the natural world, the trees and water, birds and muskrats. Many philosophers and psychologists have noted that in spite of our stunning affluence, Americans continue to search for hope, for something to believe in, for a remedy to the cynicism that accompanies a culture of "never-enoughness."
For some, the solution is a kind of romantic search for the wild, for the remembering of human relationship in the natural world. Urban and suburbanites alike long to escape the high-tech clutter and dizzying speed of their convenient but virtual lives. Some are desperate to get their hands dirty and plant flowerbeds and vegetable gardens. Others hike and camp and canoe in state parks and national forests and visit model or working farms. Often we hate to leave.
We want to slow down and be more connected to nature. We want to belong. Being, longing. Thoreau understood the difference between the two, between being satisfied where you are and always longing for something else. For a little bit more. It is ““Economy,”” the long first chapter of ““Walden”” which contains the book's most famous line: "The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation." But few remember the next two sentences: "What is called resignation is confirmed desperation. From the desperate city, you go to the desperate country and have to console yourself with the bravery of minks and muskrats."
The Latin root of the word "desperate" means ““without hope.”” Yet the word has also come to mean ““frantic”” and ““dangerous.”” Perhaps, in our culture of accumulation it also means the inability to be satisfied. In spite of Thoreau's love of the country, he implies we can feel desperate anywhere if we don't understand our connection to the natural world, if we're unable to be satisfied to belong.
Thoreau chose sustenance over satiation. He knew what enough was. This was his genius, and is, perhaps, the object of our greatest longing.
Dear Lorian,
Thank you for your journal -- a true gift!
Sending you love and HUGS,
Charlotte and Gary
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