How can I live and work in a park every day with views such as this one, and not be overwhelmed by the sheer beauty of it all? The spectacle is almost too much, at times. My soul quivers with excitement when light dapples the buttes and mesas in new ways, or a wildflower I’ve not seen yet bursts into bloom, or the scent of cliffrose or evening primrose beckons me to bury my face in the blossoms and inhale. I know some of you shake your head and think I am exaggerating, but this is as accurate as I can explain it. Every sensory thing is exciting to me. Walking to work this morning, I encountered a gorgeous 10-inch long lizard that proceeded to stand up on her hind legs and dash away. I was standing with my mouth agape, trying to comprehend what I had just seen, when my boss walked by and I had to find words to convey my astoundedness. It’s a good thing Karen understands and experiences that passion herself. She knows.
The calendar page has turned once more; after only one more page turn I have no park service work lined up for summer’s end. Last season’s departure was tough, very tough; it’s time for me to apply for more jobs.