Inspiration Strikes Again

   This weekend the ranch hosted twenty seniors, who are a part of an Art Council in North Carolina and were on a bus tour through Utah and Wyoming. I wish I got to hear more of their stories, but one in particular will have to do.
   Last night after the dinner rush was over, they were all sitting in the lobby/saloon and one of them sat down at the piano and started playing. Vivaldi, Beethoven, Clair de Lune. Even an old folky cowboy song in which we all participated. It was absolutely amazing. I just stood there, watching his fingers strike the keys, in awe. The songs were so beautiful and it made me wish I had been forced to play piano as a kid. This morning, I got to talk to him at breakfast.
   I never got his name, but he mentioned in so many words that he was 68, which I found very hard to believe, considering he looked 40. When he was younger, he worked on a farm for a few weeks during two different summers on a plantation in Virginia built in the early 1900s. The original structure was huge with eleven bedrooms and twelve bathrooms. Supplemental houses were built for more staff. All the fixtures were silver and gold. He was told he could sleep in, but he said if he was going to be a farmer, he was going to do it right. He was the first one up at quarter after five every morning. They milked almost two hundred cows twice a day. During his time on the farm he even got to assist with the birth of a calf.
   He's been playing piano since he was four. He has a double degree in organ, his main instrument of choice, and conducting. His symphony has flown in big opera singers from San Francisco and Germany to sing with them. While in Salt Lake City, he got to hear the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, an item now on my bucket list. He even got to sit in at rehearsal and hear the concert and conductor's notes before the show. He told stories about different places he's visited, and how sometimes a name drop would allow him to play some of the most prestigious organs in the world. He even bragged that his friend has the eighth largest organ in the world.
   I really want to take piano lessons now. I want to be able to sit down and play something from the top of my head and wow everybody and inspire others like this man inspired me. I wish we could have talked longer, but he and the tour group are headed off to the airport this morning to go back to NC.
   I love hearing people's stories. I wish I could have talked to more of the group. But I've got a long day's work ahead of me that I'm sure will dampen my spirits a bit. I wish I had classical piano on my ipod!

I Went Whitewater Rafting and Lived to Tell the Tale

   I had a lot of feelings during my rafting trip. The first was fear, then excitement, then the absolute pleasure of freezing my hypothetical balls off. Once we arrived at the drop off location, it started snowing. Yes, snowing in June. I can check that one off my bucket list. They gave us wetsuits (I admire my scuba certified family more now) and big water-resistant smocks. We went over all our safety information, and got in the raft. It then started snowing harder. Sheets of white came down in front of us for at least ten minutes, probably more like fifteen. But I have to say, it was so worth it. The snow was absolutely stunning. Our tour guide said he'd never been on a trip where it snowed so much.

   I went with my friend and co-worker Briar, and our group was made up of two older couples and our tour guide, who was adorable if I do say so myself. Briar can confirm this fact. Of course we got a selfie with him, but we both looked pretty horrible after the ride.
   Highlights of the trip were the snow and coming about twenty yards away from a huge Mama moose and her calf on the river bank. Our tour guide admitted he was "scared shitless" once we had safely passed. The moose could have reached us in three steps, and the fur on her back started to stick up like she was going to charge. It was awesome!!
   There were a lot of spots where the water was very calm and we weren't paddling and everyone was quiet, and I felt all the feels. It was so surreal. This is my life! I kept saying to Briar, "I am on a river in Wyoming, thousands of miles from home right now. What is life?!" The mountains were so incredibly beautiful, there's just no way to describe it all. I got quite wet, muddy, ruined my good sneakers, and was actually worried about frost bite in some parts of the trip, but it was so worth it, and I want to go again!
 

   After rafting, I finally got a hot shower (Ahh!) and then Briar and I went to town. After errands, we went to the movie theater for a double feature. For me, The Fault in Our Stars again. For her, How to Train Your Dragon 2. Then we met back up for 22 Jump Street, which was flawless and hysterical and highly recommended.
   It was about 9PM by the time we got out of the theater, and Briar just wanted to drive around a bit. The sun had just set, so the sky still had this yellow-green glow to it. Somehow we ended up on some highway, driving into nothing. All the mountains somehow got behind us, and ahead of us the earth was completely flat. It was crazy. We were both in awe. We cranked up the radio and cracked the windows and drove into nothing as the sky grew darker and darker, and it was what I always wanted summer to be, at home or otherwise. It was so refreshing and relaxing and rejuvenating, and it was the perfect end to a long, ridiculously fun day.
   Yesterday reminded me of why I wanted to be here in the first place. I am ridiculously homesick, especially after a Skype session with the whole family on Monday, but I'm trying to enjoy every moment out here. There are a lot of frustrating aspects of this job and the location in general, especially since I don't have a car out here, but the positives still outweigh the negatives.
   More than any feeling, yesterday I had so much gratitude in my heart. I am so grateful that my parents pushed me to do this, I am so grateful Briar and I get along, and I am so grateful I finally put on my big girl pants and geared up for an adventure.

A crappy cell phone photo of the flatness in front of us on our drive.

A City Girl Goes Country

   If you don't know yet, I am spending a total of twelve weeks in Cody, Wyoming this summer to work at Bill Cody Ranch. I debated whether or not I should start a blog my first week here and decided against it, but sometimes there are thoughts I need to share in length. So here I am, almost three weeks in, starting a blog for the remaining nine.

   I expected my first few days here to be the worst. I kept waiting for a mental breakdown. Full-on homesickness, wanting to quit, not fitting in. Then I expected to get used to it. I'd make friends, I'd become familiar here, I'd embrace my independence. What's strange is that the opposite is true. My first full day here was amazing, if only because it was one of the last I'd spend with my dad all summer. Yellowstone was never a bucket list item for me, but now that I've seen a little bit of it, I want to see all of it. It is so breathtakingly beautiful. The next few days I loved having roommates and eating meals with all of the staff and being in charge of my own decisions. As the weeks went on, though, I started to miss home more and more. I don't exactly miss Annapolis, I just miss everyone there. I miss my Mom a whole lot more than I had anticipated. Even though I only see them on occasion, I miss my older siblings. I miss my little brother's witty remarks and vulgar jokes. And I really miss my Dad's hugs. I feel like I'm missing out on a summer with those of my friends that are home from college, and those who are going off for the first time in the Fall. I feel guilty for leaving so many people behind. And then I remember that I need to do something for myself for once. 

   Wyoming has already inspired me in ways I never knew were possible. It's already put ideas in my head for next summer. It's taught me a lot about myself already, and it's put a lot of things in perspective. My family will be happy to know that I will be much more appreciative for what I have back home in Maryland. But my wanderlust is even worse now. I want to go everywhere! The absolute worst part about the job is not having a car. Most of the staff do. People here go on road trips on their days off, and go into town or Yellowstone whenever they have a break. I would never be on the ranch when I have time off if I had a car!

   I'd like to end my first blog post with a poem I wrote this morning. I usually don't share my poetry with a lot of people, but why the hell not? It doesn't have a title yet. I'm working on it!

The days feel like hours,

the weeks like years

early birds order their worms 

and I serve half-asleep, still in a trance,

as the chill nips at my skin.

Each sizzle, crack, clank

becomes a metal symphony,

smoke drowning up into the vents,

footsteps linger, coffee brews.

Out on my green steed

I speed with crates of linens

and chemicals strong enough to make me ill

and the rocks dissolve under rough tires as I make my deliveries.

Spray, wipe, clean

a choreographed dance in its second week.

Perfection is our aspiration, never to be met

aching to sit, aching to stay focused, aching to succeed.

When finally the chance arrives to check off the day's monotony,

we should know it's never over,

growing old, not growing older.

The afternoon exhales and the cold returns,

only to be fed by equine dreams.

No rest for my wicked feet,

no night would be complete without a steady standing

and a slender night's sleep.