Is it possible that there be a place more beautiful than New England in the Fall? The words are a whisper with a sense of betrayal to even think it is possible. You see…once a New Englander, always a New Englander, and there IS no place like home.
The truth is… there is no place that brings a calico landscape of reds, oranges and yellows together to celebrate autumn like New England. Yikes…almost banished myself for a minute. Proud of my recovery. Life is good.
The Tetons have schooled me. We arrived to an explosion of color, where brilliant birch forests nestle themselves between expansive meadows and the base of 13,000′ peaks. The park tempts wildlife and curious onlookers to their marshy rivers, trails and views. They celebrate their bragging rights with yellows that mimic the sunniest of days.
Look again. Step closer and let the binoculars help you search for what you need to know.
Look again. Step off the trail, find a rock to sit on and listen. There isn’t anything to say that is more important than the view, so bask in the quiet. You CAN hear quiet.
But wait a minute….
He: Was that you?
Me: No, I thought it was you.
And today…we are still trying to figure out if our ability to catapult ourselves back to the tree line was more priceless than the moose who looked back to see who was wandering around HIS home. You know…sometimes close is close enough.
To be continued…