|Four Red Tailed Hawks soaring in the afternoon|
The meadows that were green look as if King Midas had come for a visit. The sun plays on the glacially-carved slopes creating folds in the golden grass. When I look closely, I can see every plant an animal preparing for the winter ahead. The elk are gathering and the bulls are bugling. The flowers have turned to an endless array of seeds and fruits. Other animals are hastily eating and storing what the plants are producing. A few, late season flowers are still blossoming.
Obviously, Yellowstone isn't famous for its fall colors. But that makes every plant I see losing its chlorophyll even more beautiful because its so rare. I see them tucked in the shadows, under the fir trees, and I know that summer will soon be gone. Nothing lasts forever, which is okay too. I can feel change in the air. I look around me at summer ending. I see plants dying and becoming dormant. The flowers have withered, but in their place seeds wait patiently for the wind to carry them away. I'm reminded that every ending contains a new beginning.