Sunday, June 27, 2004

Sunday, June 27, 2004

David R., 6/27/04.

Snead is upstairs, perhaps still asleep, and Matty is taking a shower, but as we have a few suspended moments, I thought I would add another journal entry. We really haven’t kept up with the journal online as well as we had hoped, but as Matty has commented to me several times, “There’s just too much to see.” We think often of the lines of Brother Rich’s song: “And there’s so much beauty around us for just two eyes to see…but everywhere I go, I’m looking.”

Here I sit in Jackson, Wyoming, on a pleasant, sunny, cool Sunday morning. We spent last night at the apartment of Tom Holton (who attended BC for two years before transferring to Berry College), behind which runs a piece of river dividing his small yard from the great hill beyond—quite a difference from our stay in Billings, Montana, the night before! Ah, Billings…I should like to remember you with a smile, but how does one remember the non-descript? Billings is just Billings, and there’s nothing particular to add to it. We did meet one woman, and I, foolishly trying to be friendly, posed a few questions…

David: (with a smile) So, how long have you lived here in Billings?

Woman: (old, wearing glasses and tired clothing which reflects her sentiment, says

nothing for a few moments, then, with a voice of silent suspicion while refusing to look David in the eye--) Ohhhh, a long time.

(Awkward silence as David waits hopefully for elaboration. David tapping fingers on tabletop. The woman ignoring David. David refuses to give up.)

David: (with a quick nod of assumed understanding, hoping to win a friend here) Huh. Is

Billings a pretty quiet town?

Woman: (again, waiting several moments, this time looking heavenward as she still won’t look at her inquisitor, finally conjures the profound response of…) Depends.

(This time David gives up.)

We left Billings happily, and headed southwest toward Yellowstone National Park, which we achieved at some point in the afternoon. Unfortunately, our path led us into the park briefly before we struck the state line between Montana and Wyoming, and so, chalking it up to patriotism and love of country, we decided we would observe the beauty of this park and refrain from driving golf balls into the lovely wilds we saw around us.

How awesome is this place, this Yellowstone! Such wonders God has formed here! One can peer across hot steam and boiling springs to snow-laden peaks above, mountains carved like jagged teeth and set in the gums of green hills, as if the earth were suspended in one enormous bite. One can watch earth burst into white water, tearing the air with spray thirty feet deep, or journey up the road a bit to gasp at rushing falls which careen and course off rocks below. This reminds me of a poem I wrote a few months ago…

A stream is a strand of marvelous thread—

Fullest in living when all else is dead,

Pouring herself over rock, over stone,

Wrapping in Springtime the cold Winter’s bones,

Spending herself toward a Summer unseen,

Then dwindling down

to

a

trickle

too

keen

Idle and lazy, for months she just grins

Till Fall her redemption, her rebirth begins.

Water has long amazed me, and these are some of the most amazing our land is blessed with. And the wildlife!—we had set our purpose to viewing bears initially, then added moose to the list of desired sights, and in one day our hopes were met. In such a gorgeous place, where no common beauty is, I could spend weeks upon weeks: it makes me wish to be a wildlife photographer. But more of the Parks (Yellowstone and Grand Tetons) I’ll let one of the Matts describe…

David Ritterbush

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