The trip is winding down, and here at about a half-way point
between the Black Hills and home in Iowa, it’s time to get some sleep. Packing up this morning, rarely my favorite
thing to do, I was consoling myself that even though I was leaving a beautiful
place, I was going to take many things back with me.
The buffalo herd moves across the grasses, mostly in a slow
and loose conglomeration of shaggy creatures.
Babies test out their legs, and discover hopping and running to their
great joy. The mamas look as if they
hope the babies will do several more laps to be naptime ready sooner rather
than later. The herd sentries grunt back
and forth; passing along directional, pace, and herd behavior
instructions. Rolling in the dust,
sturdy buffalo legs stretch in wallowing holes to take dust baths. Tiny cow birds gather around the buffalo,
partners in their environment. The
calves stretch out next to their mommas, soak in the sun, and wake recharged
and hungry. They try to add their own
grunts, with baby voices that are much higher than the adults surrounding them. I will take them with me.
Antelope, elegant creatures of patterned colors, perch high
on hills and low in the gullies. They
tend to pretend that human viewers are simply not there, conspicuously ignoring
the person within view. Watching the antelope,
quietly munching the grasses and moving along the hill lines, I love their
patterned looks and the sounds of their quiet grass clipping. I will take them with me.
Sylvan Lake, Legion Lake, Stockade Lake, and several other
lake spots reflect the pines, snow, and rock formation. The ducks and geese that make their homes in
the waters take turns honking and quacking at each other, flapping around in a
merry chase of territorial nesting crankiness.
The air is full of pine smell, clean and sweet. The water, still frozen in some places, is
cold with spring snow melt. Little fish
dart in and out of the cattails. Tiny
birds played as they move in and out of the reeds. An osprey dipped and dove into the
waters. The trails around the ponds and
lakes are each different. The Sylvan
Lake path leads past the waters framed in low rocks to a path sided by tall
rock walls. The pines and birch trees
close to the rocks are still encased in thick snows. Higher up, where the sun is hitting, the snow
has melted to form icicles that glow in the sunshine like jewels. I will take them with me.
Blue birds perch on the fences and bird houses. Tiny spots of sky blue, they are like little
sky streaks that dart around. The
females are toned in browns, like little paintings that reflect the good soils
and stones around them, delicate in coloring and well disguised in their
environment. The meadow lark sings the
most beautiful song, loudly and joyfully from tree branches, fence posts, and
anywhere else they can find. Yellow,
with a swirl of black on their chest, these birds are as beautiful to see as
they are to hear. Magpies, white
and
dark blue, dart about as if they are the supermodels and everyone else should
pause to watch. They are beautiful, and
I do pause. A strutting turkey, fluffed
up and gliding over pine needle covered ground attempting, all in the attempt to
impress a hen was a beautiful sight. She
was even chasing him for a few minutes, so apparently it was working. The gobble gobble and cluck cluck of the
turkey was fun to hear. The pheasants,
hawks, burrowing owls, and noisy crows were all there and all so wonderful to
see. I will take them with me.
I have met wonderful people.
A woman on an adventure who displays warmth and caring in her work, will
have a collection of stories that is worthy of writing in a much shared
book. A local small store owner brings
Bob the Manager to the store each day to “work” as a greeter. Bob is a liver colored lab who likes belly
rubs and to show off his big blue toy bone.
The Custer Chamber of Commerce awarded Bob as having friendliest
customer service; all because his person brought him to work and let those who
visit the store enjoy that personality. Another
woman has picked up the pieces of her life and found a passion for photography
that has inspired her to make more than a so-so existence, but to enrich the
lives of others around her. I felt as if
she was looking to share, as one who cares about an art wants to share it with
another. A gentleman is warmly greeting guests, even as
he is a guest here. I hope that he feels
as welcome
in the Custer area as he made us feel. A retired rancher, working at the Wild Horse
Sanctuary, let me see the plains through his eyes. Grasses, sustainability, the balance cycle of
predator and prey, water conservation, and the joy of spring’s arrival from the
presence of a burrowing owl were only the frosting on the cupcake. His love of the horses and caring for them
and their preservation was something that could be described more as a passion
than a job. People who have greeted,
smiled, welcomed, and been kind – I will take them with me.
Snow falling so gently while enveloped in the heat of the
steam and water of a hot tub, watching deer eat their dinner just beyond the pines
from the same hot tub, and the sound of migratory ducks and geese as they fly
over - they are all cabin memories.
Tucked near an outcropping of rock, the cabin was a quiet landing place
at the end of a day. With a gas stove
fire started, the living room was toasty and the perfect place to end a day
flipping through pictures. A kind
hearted woman owns the cabins and so wants to share her joy of the cabins with
those who stay there. I will take these
with me.
These are just a few of the things I will take home with
me. I packed them all so gently in my
luggage and have them with me even now.
They are many more, and those also I will take with me.
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