Over two months into my seven month stay, I'm finally starting to get into a Yellowstone frame of mind. The annoyances have been settled as well as they can be, the strange recurrent feeling on the right side of my head which seemed to presage a stroke has subsided, my new roommate and I can tolerate living together, recreation programming has begun with hikes and other events, and in 3 1/2 weeks I'll be switching to my new old job.
This morning I hiked the Beaver Ponds Trail for the second weekend in a row, a 5 or 5 1/2 mile hike (depending which source you believe) which I've decided to do every weekend I have a free day, alternating direction for variety. What a difference a week makes--almost all the snow from last week is gone, replaced by mud and water, and in places the plants are already encroaching on the trail. I also did it earlier in the day and encountered many fewer people. Bear spray was strapped to my hip and I was extra vigilant in the area where mom and cub had been eating the other cub.
In the room, I'm nearing the end of a Bob Dylan biography and I've typed 80 pages from my journals. It's interesting times as I simultaneously live in the present Yellowstone and relive events from a cracking open time more than twenty years ago when I began devoting time to writing again, discovered paganism, Joseph Campbell, and DH Lawrence, began therapy, quit the corporate world, came to terms with a relationship which had been spinning me in circles for six years and which would linger in various less destructive forms for almost twenty more years, relived fantasies of moving to New Orleans and neared my actual move to Boston and a much healthier life.