Living in a place like Jackson with an injury can be extremely frustrating, and, at times, isolating. While my friends were out conquering their summer goals list, backpacking in the Gros Ventre, climbing at Blacktail Butte, or doing alpine climbs in Grand Teton National Park, I was watching Meru on the couch.
Autumn in the Greater Yellowstone Ecosystem (GYE) is filled with exciting phenological changes, from elk bugling, to bears in hyperphagia, to the changing leaves. The auditory and aesthetic beauty of these phenomena are certainly worth experiencing, but why do they occur at all?
In a packed Main Lodge room of Teton Science Schools’ Kelly Campus, seven high school students weaved among a pantheon of Teton Science Schools founders, former participants, and supporters. The students positioned themselves and their favorite self-generated works at the front of the room, glanced at one another reassuringly, and eloquently introduced themselves and their programs.
“This is going to sound lofty . . . but it has become apparent to me that we - as a society, a world, a country - need connection to place now more than ever . . . . Having public lands, green spaces, [and] public parks for people to experience, recreate, and learn in makes us better people.”
Maybe “bloom where you’re planted” is not quite what we are up to at TSS. Maybe it is better to bloom where you’re needed, or invited, or where you can be of service. What is most important of all, maybe, is just to bloom, wherever you are.