I could not be more happy or content right now, sitting high above the Lamar River. At least that’s what I started to write in my journal, before I turned and noticed a massive bull bison approaching. He was just grazing, and no doubt would have sauntered right by had I stayed put…but I decided to cede the hillside and walked back down to the road. Bison are, after all, unpredictable.
That’s the thing about Yellowstone; you can never quite rest on your laurels. Animals seem to shape shift out of thin air. Where there was no bison, one appears, as if by magic, or witchcraft, the same way a bear can materialize from behind a sagebrush. Perhaps their encounters with us feel much the same; unfamiliar, yet mostly harmless beings suddenly in their path.
So now I am sitting on the gravel bar right at the exact point of confluence between the Lamar River and Soda Butte Creek. It’s a swirling, bubbling cauldron, folding and braiding in and over and upon itself.
It’s a stupendously gorgeous day. Warm sunlight like gentle fingers feels its way across the landscape, over a patchwork of snow and bare ground and the earliest hints of green. The air smells like frosty morning in the mountains – that cold, sharp tang of earth and trees and sage—and here in Yellowstone—an undertone of sulphur.
I am alone with my camera and my journal in the most wild, beautiful, serene, terrifying, and magical place I have ever known. So despite having to move locations to give the bull bison some space, I still maintain that I could not be more happy and content and at peace with the world than I am in this moment.
…But I do look over my shoulder an awful lot.
For more wildlife encounters, read First Grizzly Bear: An Annual Treat, Winter Fox Encounters, Spending Time With Otters, or check out our videos page.
Photo of Lamar River/Soda Butte Creek confluence: Jenny Golding