The fresh air circulated in my nostrils in search of a fragment smell during the eight-day Glacier, Yellowstone and Grand Teton adventure. This getaway with our dear friend Janet bubbled with laughter as we witnessed the grandeur of these iconic images floating by our corneas.
The shared emotional connection with the sparkling views of the summit in Whitefish stimulated our psyche. The almost seven thousand feet height gripped our lungs beautifully. The ski lift flared across trees carrying us up and down the slopes.
We hiked through the possibly bear infested trails fearlessly. Avoiding the forty-dollar anti-bear spray we followed the noise rule. As a threesome if we chattered so the grizzly bears would avoid us. St. Mary relaxed our bones. Sunsetting any nervous energy.
When we approached the diminishing glaciers that had peaked at over one hundred and have dwindled to twenty-five, our hearts sank into a climate change funk. We were furnished with an explanation that the residue of glacier melt had architecturally created artful carvings against the mountain range. Each waterfall splurges our thirst.
We gobbled huckleberries at every junction. Feeding our stomachs with homegrown delicacies farmed within inches of our eating establishments.
The Roosevelt arch welcomed us to Glacier National Park. Scalding hot springs burst our meditations. Old faithful followed a ninety-minute gap. Losing count of thermal geyser springs made us giddy.
Paint pods ate dreams. Elks popped in the i-phone photos.
Grand Teton held us captive during the snake river rafting excursion.
Sunsets stole us. The orgasmic holiday closed but the residue of love permeates.